Fated Chance
by Euonym
Summary: It happened because of a game. That's it. Nothing more. But Fate doesn't like to lose, and if winning means sending a few people back in time, so be it. Harry Potter will be given a second chance. WRITTEN PRE DH
1. Prologue

A/N: Ok, so this is my first fic on this account. My first fic in a long time, actually. Much obliged if you'd take the time to read it, though.

Disclaimer: Wait a sec; let me check something real quick. Nope, don't have Harry Potter stashed in my closet, and my money tree in the back yard died. No Harry Potter plus far less money than the Queen of England equals one thing: I'm not JKR, I don't own HP

**Prologue**

The Game board was all set now. The pieces had been weeded, until only those necessary for the final Play remained: a tall, black-maned lion, a brown owl and a red dog at its side, a slew of white pawn shaped pieces behind them, a red snake, silver rat, and a sea of black hooded pawns behind those. The two Players sat thoughtfully at either end of the Board, quietly contemplating how to win the game.

The one on the left- he appeared to be a man with a beard of light spilling down his chest- suddenly reached out and moved the red snake several spaces forward, into the midst of the other Player's team.

"**No!**" the other Player called out sharply. He seemed to be made of light, and then shadow. One moment his presence was everywhere, the next barely felt. The only thing remaining constant was his eyes, bright as the sunlight on a freshly fallen snow. Now they glared angrily at the figure across from him. "**No, that was not fair! I had no time to prepare!"**

The pieces on the board had come to life. Before the eyes of the two Players, the snake was rapidly crushing all the white pawns. The bearded Player watched the scene with amusement and chuckled before opening his mouth to speak. His voice was rather felt than heard. _"It is a good thing, then, that Time is none of your concern. Good for me, that is. I can do whatever I choose with time, and if it is my desire not to give you any, then nothing can change that."_

"**Nothing save Fate," **the Player replied quietly. He no longer looked angry. Instead, he was watching the board quietly, as the snake moved on to the owl and the rat destroyed the dog. When only the lion remained, he reached his hand down and paused all movement occurring in the Game. "**I have a proposition for you."**

"_Oh? What kind of proposition?"_

The ever-changing Player shrugged, "**It's really more of a gamble. You give me one dice roll. Only one. If I roll a twelve, you let me make one move. Any move that I desire, be it in your power or mine."**

The bearded Player looked at his companion thoughtfully, his eyes darting from his pieces to the other Player. "_And if you don't roll a twelve?"_

"**Then I make no move to stop you from winning this Game, and forfeit the first round of the next one."**

After a few moments silence, the bearded Player came to a decision. Nodding sharply, he threw the dice at the other Player. "_Deal."_

The bright-eyed figure rattled the two dice around for a full minute before releasing them swiftly. They scuttled across the board noisily, both coming to rest on a six. The bearded Player glared at them, looking as though the two inanimate blocks of whit had insulted him. "_What is your move?" _he asked at long last.

Wordlessly, his companion picked up three pieces- the lion, the dog, and the owl- and placed them on a board five tables away- the play made five rounds before the play they were currently engaged in. He put the pieces among five others: a brown stag, white flower, black dog, grey wolf, and silver rat. "**A second chance," **he replied.

Furiously, the bearded Player slammed his fist into the board before him. "_No! That could destroy my entire Game plan!"_

"**We had a deal, Father Time. My side is meant to win, and you should know by now that nobody cheats Fate. Now, if you please," **he gestured toward the distant board.

Grumbling, Father Time flicked his wrist toward the board on which they played a Game round on years before. It was enveloped in a sparkling blue mist and moved toward the two players- Fate and Time- so that they might begin their Game anew.

Worlds away, a blue mist rose over a desolate Russian plain. It separated a boy with raven hair from who had so nearly killed him seconds before. The boy and two lifeless figures beside him- a redhead and brunette- were lifted from the ground. Enveloping them, the mist swirled, faster and faster until it felt like the three were also spinning. The bodies of the brunette girl and redheaded boy became warm once more; color returned to their ashen faces. From above the three, a voice echoed.

"**You've been given a second chance, but only one (for I doubt that I will be able to get Time to do something like this again). But one second chance should be enough; I don't foresee Time cheating you again. As it is, I've chosen only to send you back. How you mend the future and explain yourselves to those around you is entirely up to you. Harry, Ron, Hermione, good luck."**

A/N: So, what do you think? I know it's short, and I'm actually not too proud of it right now. But the idea popped into my head and I had to write it. Tell me what you think- should I go on or no? If I do, it will be a time travel fic (obviously), but probably not the usual cuz I HATE the common time travel, nobody-is-surprised-to-see-someone-from-the-future fic. Anyway, Time and Fate probably won't play a role in it again until the end. So, yeah. If you think its worthwhile, please review and tell me so. If you think it isn't, please do the same thing. (and I'd be glad to get some plot ideas from anybody. I only have a few ideas right now.)


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Believe me, if I owned Harry Potter, I would not be wasting my time writing fanfics.

Chapter 1

The last thing that Harry remembered was cold. It was everywhere around him, from the white snow swept up by the biting wind, to the feeling in the pit of his stomach, to the voice of the man standing in front of him. Lord Voldemort should not have been there, Harry was sure of that. They had chosen to remain in that barren Russian landscape precisely _because_ Voldemort should not have been there. They should have had weeks of preparation, weeks before _they_ sought our _Voldemort_ for the final confrontation. But instead, he appeared in the Order's midst, ready to end it all.

He may have snuck up on them; he and his scores of Death Eaters could have surrounded the entire Order with none of them the wiser. He could have, were it not for a debt that had remained unpaid for four years.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been sitting together outside the fire's light. They had been traveling with the Order for nearly a month, but it was still habit to remain outside, just the three of them, as it had been during the entire Horcrux hunt. They were quiet, huddled together to keep warm, when a shout broke the silence behind them. All three spun, just in time to see a hooded Death Eater preparing to send a curse at Harry. A year of finding and destroying pieces of an evil wizard's soul had honed their reflexes to perfection; the Death Eater was stunned before she could register what was happening.

Wormtail stepped into the light, so that he was no longer hidden by the swirling snow, and looked at Harry, ignoring the two beside him. All three instinctively knew that it was he who yelled earlier. "You saved my life, I saved yours. I owe you nothing now."

"Then get away, before I ignore what you've just done and kill you," Harry's voice was as icy as the ground below them.

It didn't frighten Wormtail. He chuckled, and dissolved once more into the surrounding blizzard. "I'm not leaving, Potter. None of us are."

The trio had no time to ponder what Wormtail said. There were suddenly shouts behind them, shouts from the Order. Spinning, they watched in horror as every living member of the Order was pulled into the air, frozen and helpless. One by one they were killed, eradicated by nothing more than a blinding green light. It happened so fast, too fast for anybody to do anything. The bodies littered the ground, the empty shells of the last resistance against Voldemort.

Harry was rooted to the spot, and Hermione's sobs could be heard beside him. Ron was the only one among them not paralyzed by shock. He charged forward, yelling angrily, only to be halted by a green light from behind. Those sickening words, Avada Kedavra, had been uttered just behind Harry, bored directly into his skull in a voice that had haunted his dreams- the voice that had betrayed his parents.

Hermione screamed; she screamed and, sobbing, and ran over to Ron's limp body, holding him to her and weeping. Harry jumped at Wormtail at a speed that he never knew he possessed, a speed fed by rage. Wormtail never had a chance. Before he could even put his wand up, Harry had knocked him to the ground, punching him anywhere and everywhere, blinded by tears he was not aware had come. Wormtail felt none of it; his neck had been snapped when Harry knocked him to the ground.

Eventually Harry's fists slowed. He collapsed on the body of his foe, sobbing for the life of his best friend.

"Get up, Harry." The voice was high and cold. It was empty of all emotion and spoke of years of ruthless murders. It was the voice of Lord Voldemort.

Harry stood up slowly, turning as if in a dream toward the man who had taken everything from him not five minutes ago. Hermione was not as slow. She screamed, the sound of someone with nothing left to live for, and charged at the Dark Lord. He flicked his wrist lazily, and Hermione flew backwards, a gash four inches wide and traveling from her shoulder to hip bleeding profusely. Voldemort had changed the Sectumsempra spell somehow- Hermione had bled out within thirty seconds.

Voldemort and Harry were the only two there now; the Death Eaters had slipped back behind the blinding wall of snow. "So, Potter, tell me. How does it feel to have watched every person ever there for you die? What is it like to know that you're completely alone?"

Harry said nothing, but stood staring emotionlessly at the figure before him.

"No words? Very well. I don't believe I would have cared too much, as it is. Let's end this, Potter." They raised their wands, the Killing Curse ready on Harry's tongue, and then there was blue. Everywhere, blue.

Now he was lying on his back in what felt strangely like grass. Was that sun on his face? No, impossible. There was no sun in that Russian plain.

"Harry?"

The voice was Hermione's. But that wasn't possible. Hermione was dead on a stained patch of snow. Harry had watched her die. She couldn't have just uttered his name.

"Harry!"

Dead, dead, dead.

"C'mon, mate. Get up!"

No, Ron shouldn't be talking either. Wormtail had taken care of that. Unless Harry was dead too? Maybe. Was the blue light that he had seen a sign that he was dead? Either must die at the hand of the other. Yes, perhaps Voldemort had actually won. But the ground he was on felt solid. So did his body. Were dead people supposed to feel solid?

"Oh, this is ridiculous."

Suddenly Harry was in the air, dangling by his ankle. His eyes snapped open. Upside down in front of him was Hermione, wearing a bloodstained shirt, but with no hint of cut on her body. Her wand was raised at Harry, and Ron stood beside her looking amazingly alive. But he wasn't. He had been killed.

"Get away from me, ghosts!" Harry yelled. There was no way the figures before him were real. Dead people didn't come back. But the Hermione ghost was doing magic… "I- I dunno what you are! Maybe a ghost that died with her wand in hand, but you're not- you can't be- put me down, you _thing!_"

"Get a grip, Harry, before I have to hit you!" the not-Hermione snapped. "I'm no ghost, and I'm certainly no _thing_. I'm Hermione Granger, and _you_ must have gone mad."

"I'm not mad!" Harry was flailing in the air; he twisted and kicked, and threw out his arms. Was that a forest? No, not in Russia. "You're dead! I watched! Voldemort killed you right there in front of me! Both of you. You're dead. Dead, dead, dead…" His voice trailed off and he was lost in the memories of mere moments ago.

The look on Hermione's faced softened at she gently let Harry down. She always had been better at that than either of the boys had, Harry remembered. But that didn't mean it was Hermione, or that the redhead beside her was Ron. It couldn't be.

"Look, Harry," it certainly sounded like Ron's voice, "I- I dunno what happened. All I remember is white, then blue, then this. But it _is_ me, and that really is Hermione. You need to snap out of this, Harry. It's us."

Harry shook his head, not looking at either of them, but studying his beat up shoes.

"How can we prove it's us to you, Harry?" Hermione's voice was gentle.

"You can't. I watched! You're gone! Like all of-" his voice broke as his throat tightened with the hot feeling of unshed tears.

"Look at me, Harry. Look at _us_." Hermione's voice was commanding, but Harry didn't listen. He stared mulishly at his shoes until a hand tilted his chin up.

Those were Hermione's eyes, all right, and that had to be Ron. But it _couldn't_! It just wasn't possible.

"My name is Hermione Granger, I met you on the Hogwarts Express when I was looking for Neville Longbottom's toad. I didn't get along with you until you saved me from the troll. In my second year, I went to the hospital wing twice, once as a human cat and once petrified. I've been one of your best friends for seven years, and found the hiding places of three Horcruxes- the locket, goblet, and Ravenclaw's brooch. It's me, Harry. No one else knows about the Horcruxes."

Harry's tear stained eyes were wide. It was true. Nobody but Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew about the Horcruxes. They hadn't even told the Order what they were doing. Did that mean- was it possible? Was it really Hermione?"

"I'm Ron Weasley," it really did sound like Ron, "You met me on the train in first year. You didn't know a thing about Bertie Bott's and got a Dumbledore wizard card from your chocolate frog. My biggest fear is spiders, except ever since second year it was Acromantulas, not just regular spiders. I was once dared by Seamus to kiss Pansy Parkinson in the middle of breakfast, but chose to lick the toilet seat instead."

Harry chuckled lightly at the memory. Hermione scrunched her nose up in disgust. "You didn't! Ronald Weasley, I'm begging you. Tell me you didn't."

Ron's only answer was a shrug.

"Uh! I _kissed_ you! And you licked a _toilet seat_!"

"It was a year ago! And better that than kissing Parkinson!"

"You're insane! How could you think-"

It was their bickering, more than anything else, that convinced Harry that they were real. Even after they had gotten together, Hermione and Ron couldn't resist an argument.

"You're alive," Harry whispered, finally accepting it. "But how?"

Hermione replied to Harry rather than continue fighting with Ron, "I don't know. I actually don't remember being dead. I just remember being in Russia, then the blue and the voice, then I was here."

"Where is here?" It was obvious that they were no longer in Russia. The ground below them was green with grass, and they were surrounded by tall pines and trees shedding their leaves for winter.

"What voice?" Ron asked at the same time as Harry voiced his question. Hermione said she remembered blue and a voice, but neither he nor Harry recalled hearing anything.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, "At least, I think I heard a voice. But we should talk about that later. We need to know where we are now."

Harry nodded. "Who picked the direction last time?" During their wanderings looking for the Horcruxes, the three had gotten lost innumerable times. Instead of fighting over the direction that they should go (since it always happened), they decided on a system. They took turns choosing which way to go, and kept at that direction until they arrived at some place that could give them a sense of direction.

"I did," Hermione replied. "Your turn, Ron."

"North."

They began walking north. "Just curious," Hermione said, "but why north?"

Ron shrugged. "We're in a forest. It's the only direction I can find."

Hermione grinned and took Ron's hand. They continued walking for five minutes before Hermione stopped dead and gasped.

"What's wrong?" Harry's and Ron's voices chimed in unison.

"Oh my… no, that's not right. It can't be."

"I hate it when she does this," Ron told Harry in a whisper. "You going to tell us any time soon, Hermione?"

She shook her head, but then said, "Harry, come here. No, Ron, you should stay back for a second."

Harry walked forward a few steps to join her. She pointed forward a ways, and Harry followed her finger. There on the ground was a neat line of spiders, all traveling farther into the forest. "That's not possible," Harry muttered. "Aragog's dead. They wouldn't-"

"Think about what you're saying, Harry!" Hermione snapped, "If those are his Acromantulas, then it doesn't matter if Aragog's dead or not. Think about what that means! Where that means we're at!"

Harry shook his head, not believing for a minute that they could be in the Forbidden Forest, then took off running in the opposite direction of the spiders, Hermione and Ron in tow. Five minutes later, they came to the forest's edge. An immense lake sprawled before them, and on one of its shores a castle loomed.

"It _can't_ be!" Ron gasped. "We- we're at Hogwarts!"


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The three stood staring, open mouthed, at the castle before them. It loomed against the horizon: tall and stately, and just how they remembered it. The dark towers and sunlit grounds resonated with a peaceful feeling. The lake before them was calm, not even broken by the giant squid. But, somehow, it wasn't right….

Harry was shaking his head, unwilling to believe yet another implausible occurrence in his day. What was before him was the Hogwarts that he remembered when thinking about his school days; it was not the Hogwarts that existed currently. It stood, beautifully intact. Why, it looked like it hadn't been touched by war at all.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron whispered in shock. Hermione, standing beside him, was too stunned at what she was seeing to reprimand him for swearing. "Look at it! The Astronomy tower, and the entire top floor, and- and the Quidditch stands are even up!"

"This can't be real," was Harry's muttered reply.

The last time they had seen Hogwarts was three months ago. They were in desperate need of a library (or at least Hermione was) and could think of none better than that of Hogwarts. It was that day that the barriers were broken.

Dumbledore had put innumerable protections around Hogwarts. Far too many for McGonagall to have discovered all on her own, and Voldemort's sympathizers were everywhere. An ambitious seventh year Ravenclaw who believed that the world of Voldemort's pureblood society would be a eugenic paradise gradually decayed the wards that McGonogall had not known about.

Voldemort learned of the weakened shields of Hogwarts. In all honesty, Harry expected no less. The Dark Lord spent no more than two days coming up with a plan before he attacked.

There was no warning, since McGonagall was at the Ministry when the alarms went off in the Head's office, signaling that the warning barriers had been breached. Nobody knew that Voldemort was on the grounds until it was too late. He stormed the castle, killing a quarter or the students who had returned despite the threat of war. Professors Flitwick and Vector were killed in the Great Hall as they tried to protect the students dining there.  
Floor by floor Voldemort trampled through what had once been a haven to the entire wizarding world. Without a second thought, he incinerated portraits, tapestries, and classrooms. His onslaught was unstoppable. Most who stood in his way were promptly disposed of; Professor Sprout was killed as she protected the students frantically flooing away.

There were, of course, some who fought back and survived to tell the tale. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher (an Auror), two or three older students, and Madame Hooch. They survived only because they were thought dead. Ron was hit with a spell that sent him into a coma for two weeks. Hermione's left leg was rendered useless by flame. Harry (trying desperately to protect the fleeing students and thus left to face a few Death Eaters rather than Voldemort himself) was Crucio'd several times, but because he was to be killed by none other than the Dark Lord, was left unconscious.

As a final statement of contempt, Voldemort destroyed the entire top floor of Hogwarts and sent the Astronomy tower toppling, reduced only to a pile of rubble at the base of the once unbreakable castle. Professor Sinestra was in it when it fell. The students had fled; the opposition was taken care of, so Voldemort left. On his way out, the brightly colored Quidditch stand caught his attention. One very large Incendio charm took care of the only cheerful looking thing that remained at Hogwarts.

But now it stood before the three, as grand and whole as it once was. There were shadows of figures in the Great Hall, and even what appeared to be a person sitting by the opposite shore of the lake.

Harry closed his eyes hard, praying that this was real, but knowing that it could not be. He would close his eyes, and when they opened again, he'd see Hogwarts as he knew it was- the broken, empty shadow of what once was.

No. He wouldn't see Hogwarts, broken or otherwise. He wouldn't because he couldn't be there. It was an entire continent away! He was still in Russia, Voldemort still before him, the dead still surrounding him. It was no good accepting this wonderful image. That's all it was- an image. It did nothing becoming hopeful. All he would be doing was setting himself up for a huge fall when he came back to the real world- the world where Hogwarts no longer existed. No, no, no. This wasn't real.

"_How?"_ Hermione whispered at his side. Harry didn't open his eyes, but he could tell by her choked voice that she was crying. "It's so beautiful."  
Harry shook his head sharply, "It's not real," he grunted, "It's- it's some trick of Voldemort's. I'm… in an alternate reality. Yes. Voldemort's put some sort of spell on me, so I'm trapped in some sort of- of fantasy. A _great_ fantasy. Hogwarts…"

"I think it's real, Harry," Ron mumbled.

"Oh, what do you know? You're just a Voldemort induced fantasy."

"We've been over this, Harry," Hermione sounded annoyed. "Ron and I are real. And if we're real…"

Harry finally opened his eyes and looked at her incredulously, "You can't honestly think that that's _real!_" He swung his arm out, indicating the scene before him. "For heaven's sake, you were _there_, Hermione! You saw it fall! You saw!"

"Yes, just like I see now!" she snapped in reply. "You're so keen on letting your eyes do the deciding, look now! Tell me what you see!"

Harry winced, hating her logic with every fiber of his being, "I see something that can't be real," he whispered. He couldn't let himself believe it was real. He couldn't let himself hope. Every time he did, his hope was destroyed. Every time he did, it hurt a little more. He didn't want to believe what he was seeing, didn't want to open the door to the pain that came every time he hoped. He couldn't handle it again.

"Why can't it be real?" Ron whispered, "Why not? You thought me and Hermione were dead, but you figured out we weren't. Why's this different? Maybe- maybe it's really happening. Magic, you know?"

Harry's only response was to shake his head again.

"Second chance!" Hermione whispered excitedly.

Ron shot her an inquiring look. "Sorry?"

"The voice!" she was bouncing up and down on her toes now, a sure sign that she was thrilled. "The voice that I heard, but you and Harry didn't! It talked about this!"

"About what?" Hermione's inability to explain things straight out often caused her boyfriend a great deal of annoyance.

Hermione sucked in a breath, her eyes bright. "A second chance! Harry! Harry, stop shaking your head and look at me!" Her friend complied reluctantly. "Listen, both of you! When we were in that blue mist- fog- whatever it was, there was somebody talking, I'm sure of it! It told us we had a second chance, something about being cheated by time, I think. Anyway, it said that it could only get us the chance, what we did with it was up to us. I think- in fact I'm sure of it- _this_ is that chance!"

"Whatever this is," Ron muttered.

She hit him lightly on the shoulder. "Well? What do you think?"

"I think you're delusional," Harry muttered. "I think we should get you to the hospital wing."

"Well, at least you're accepting that there's a hospital wing _here_," Hermione said lightly. Harry glared at her.

Ron took a deep breath then said, "I think we should go inside. You know, just to- to see if it's real or some spell Voldemort's got Harry under." His voice told his two companions all that he was feeling. He needed this to be real. Needed the world to be better, to be worth living in. If Hogwarts was still standing, then maybe that world he desperately desired could be true too.

Hermione nodded in agreement and Harry sighed, "Oh, alright. Two on one, I'm outvoted. Besides, I don't think whatever spell's got me trapped inside my mind will hurt me if I walk into the castle."

"Oh, so now it's in your mind?" Hermione muttered dryly, "You've given up on the alternate reality theory, have you?"

"Let's just go," the raven-haired boy muttered, leading the way around the lake.

It didn't take long to walk to Hogwarts. The entire time they traveled, Hermione and Ron were pointing excitedly and talking in hushed voices, as if speaking louder would rip away all that was before them.

"Look at that, the Whomping Willow's still up!"

"Hagrid's hut look's…"

"D'you remember…"

"Oh, it looks _beautiful_!"

When they arrived at the great doors, all three stopped, silent. They were each scared that, if they opened those doors, it might all go away. Even Hermione and Ron, who both believed that what they saw was the truth (even if it was just because they needed it to be) paused while their memories told them it could all be a hallucination.

Finally, Harry stepped forward. "Only one thing to do, right?" he asked over his shoulder, both hands on the double doors. His friends nodded mutely, and he pushed them open.

The inside was just as astonishingly perfect as the outside was. There were no scorch marks, no graffiti on the walls (placed there lovingly by several Death Eaters). It was all just how they remembered it during their days there as students.

Hermione's eyes welled up again, and Ron wrapped an arm around her waist. Harry stepped inside, his mouth open and eyes darting everywhere. A hint of belief was beginning to grow inside him, and he didn't have the heart to squash it.

"Listen," Hermione whispered. "Do you here it?"

The 'it' that she was talking about was voices. Several voices, in fact. Happy, laughing voices. Voices that hadn't been heard at Hogwarts for a very long time.

"No," Harry murmured as he instinctively gravitated toward the source of the voices: the Great Hall. Hermione and Ron were instantly at his side.  
The three peered through the open doors, eyes widening in shock. The four house tables were there, in all their glory, filled to the brim with students. They laughed, they fought, a few were frantically studying, but they were there.

Hermione sat down hard, pulling Ron- whose arm was still around her waist- with her. She stared at the wall, eyes wide and unblinking, in complete shock over what she had just seen.

Harry couldn't pull himself away from the scene before him. His eyes roamed the room, coming to rest on the teacher's table. All the professors that were constant in his Hogwarts career (except Snape and Trelawney) were there. There were even a few teachers he didn't was only one empty seat: the Headmaster's. Harry scoffed, thinking that if whatever spell Voldemort had trapped him in had brought back Hermione, Ron, and Hogwarts, it should at least have the decency to bring Dumbledore back too.

Then something inside Harry snapped. He couldn't take it, and he knew it. He couldn't continue seeing all that he loved as it once was, knowing that whenever he came back to his senses it would be gone. It hurt too much. He couldn't do it.

"Damn it, Voldemort!" he threw back his head and yelled. Hermione and Ron looked at him, startled out of their shock. The students closest to the doors, those who could hear his yells, snapped their heads around to stare at him.

"Damn it! Just stop, already! Get it over with! Kill me! I don't care anymore, just get me out of here! Don't let me see this. Not this, please…" His voice gradually became a whisper, and he sunk to the floor in defeat. He was supposed to be strong. Supposed to be the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the hope against Voldemort. Yet here he was, broken on the cold stone floor of Hogwarts. He wasn't strong enough for this. Fight Voldemort head on? Any day. But he couldn't face all this, knowing in his heart that it was all gone.

"Mr. Potter!" a voice called out sharply.

Harry's head shot up. He knew that voice. Dumbledore stood in front of him, looking very upset and strangely young. Well, youn_ger_, that is. "_Professor_?" his shocked whisper was joined by Hermione's and Ron's.

"Get up, Mr. Potter, and follow me, please. Your friends as well. I cannot believe you. You should know better than hollering out like that. I know you enjoy your jokes, but really! That was unacceptable!" The professor swept along through the halls, the three stunned teenagers in his wake.

They reached the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office and Dumbledore began up the stairs without a backward glance. Harry, Ron, and Hermione continued to follow him obediently, even though their common sense was screaming at them saying, 'disembodied voice talking about second chances or no, that teacher should not be alive.'

His office wasn't the same as Harry remembered. The desk was in a different place, several of the silver instruments he knew he had destroyed were there, and Gryffindor's sword was not.

The Headmaster conjured three chairs and motioned for them to sit down. They obeyed immediately. Dumbledore sat behind his desk and brought his hands together before his nose. "So, may I ask why you felt the need to yell that murderer's name before the entire school?" Dumbledore asked, his voice oddly light.

Harry wasn't listening. He was staring at the man before him in awe. He looked so regal, so magnificent, so _Dumbledore_. It was nothing compared to the last time he had seen him, that night on the tower. Illusion or not, even if it was a spell playing with his mind, Harry didn't care. He let himself believe, if only for a moment, that it could possibly be real. If Dumbledore was alive, then the hope of the entire wizarding world was alive. With his wisdom behind Harry, he could face Voldemort without a problem.

"Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore was trying to get his attention. "Mr. Potter! James!"

Hermione chocked on air, her gaze darting from the Headmaster to Harry, then back again. Finally, her eyes widened in understanding. "Oh, dear Merlin, Harry!" She exclaimed ignoring the quizzical look Dumbledore was giving her. She began to laugh, almost hysterically, "Harry, don't you see! It's not a spell! No mind games, no _alternate reality_! It's a second chance! We're in the past, Harry!"

* * *

So, what do you think? Review please, as always.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Not a bit of it's mine, save the plot. All else belongs to that genius known as JK Rowling.

Chapter 3

Several seconds of silence greeted Hermione's statement. Ron's jaw dropped, and he sat looking utterly flabbergasted. Hermione was staring at Harry hopefully, waiting to see the spark that came to his eye when he realized what she said was the truth. Harry, however, was determined to beat that spark back.

Time travel? How ludicrous. Granted they had done it before, but that was only a few hours. What Hermione was talking about, it would have to be at least three months, for Hogwarts to be still standing. More if all the little spiders they had seen earlier were flocking to Aragog. Impossible. But Dumbledore had called him James….

The professor occupying Harry's thoughts sat behind his desk, steepled fingers tapping each other thoughtfully. Until that point, he had barely glanced at Ron and Hermione, being more concerned with getting Harry away from the Great Hall and scolding him. Now, however, his blue eyes followed the brunette pacing around his office. He had, of course, heard and understood what she had said. So instead of speaking to the students before him, he waited until the girl chose to elaborate.

He did not have to wait long. When Harry didn't answer her, she threw her arms up in frustration and spun around so that she was directly in front of Harry, hands on her hips. "Look, it explains everything!"

"What does?" Harry snapped. If Dumbledore thought about it, his voice wasn't really the same as James's, even if his face was. "That we're in the past? Hermione, listen to yourself!"

"I did, Harry! I ran it all over in my head, and it makes _sense_! Hogwarts is up. Why? Because it was never destroyed! There are students out there because there hasn't been a threat yet! And you heard what he called you!"

"So what?" Harry asked crossly.

"Don't you _dare_ say so what!" Hermione spat back, "You see the connection. You know you do, and I know you do. You just won't accept it! Why?"

"Because it can't be happening!" Harry was standing now too, glaring down at the girl before him.

Hermione glared back with just as much fervor. "Why _not_? You want it to be happening; I _know_ you do! It's logical, everything fits, so _why_ won't you believe it?"

Harry shook his head, "It's too perfect," he replied quietly.

Hermione looked at him sadly, and lightly directed him back to his chair, "I know you've had it hard, Harry," she said. "Probably harder than Ron or I, for that matter. But we've gone through some pretty tough times too, and look at us. We're willing to believe it- to take advantage of it. Just- just sit there, and listen, and try to accept this. It's real. I'm _positive_ it's real."

She returned to her seat and looked at the bearded man watching them with interest. "You've been quiet, Professor."

"I have been attempting to deduce who you were, and what was going on, Miss-?"

"Granger."

Dumbledore nodded, "Miss Granger, then. I must admit to being slightly confused. I have gathered that you three are in the past, he is Harry, he is Ron, and Harry is being incredibly stubborn. I have an inkling as to the hard times you spoke of. However, I believe it would behoove us all if one of you explained what was going on."

Because Hermione was the most orderly and articulate of the three, it naturally fell upon her to explain situations. That was how it had always been whenever explaining was needed. She was so comfortable in her role as explainer that she didn't pause to consult Ron or Harry anymore, she simply folded her hands, sat up a bit straighter, and began.

"It's actually quite a long story, Professor, with far too many places where I could begin. I suppose I should start where everyone starts when talking about Harry, though. There was a dark wizard, and he was unstoppable…"

She quickly narrated the story of their lives, telling only the stories that concerned Voldemort (she had decided while talking to Dumbledore that it probably wasn't wise to tell Sirius's story, since she had not analyzed the repercussions it would have in their time). When she got to their last battle against Voldemort, she turned to look at Harry.

"I- I don't recall what happened between Harry and Voldemort. I guess I was dead." Harry winced when she said this. "But then the three of us were in this blue mist, and there was a voice telling us it was giving us a second chance. Then we were here. Naturally, we were all a bit upset. Like I told you earlier, our Hogwarts was destroyed. So Harry broke down," this earned her a glare from her friend, "and you saw that. When you were bringing us here, you kept calling Harry 'Mr. Potter', and none of us thought anything of it, because that's who Harry is. Then you called him 'James' and it all just sort of clicked into place for me. You see, Harry's been told his entire life he looks exactly like his father."

During the entire telling of their tale, Dumbledore had reacted only a few times. He nodded occasionally to show that he was listening, or that he understood. He sighed sadly when Hermione spoke of all the deaths and what had occurred at Hogwarts, but none of his previous responses had been as massive as the jolt of shock that ran through him when he heard Hermione's last sentence. He stared at Harry for a few incredulous moments before saying, "Yes. Yes, it does make sense. The similarities are remarkable. You're eyes, though- they're not your father's."

Harry shook his head. He had been listening to Hermione and Dumbledore talk as silently as Ron had (Although he was sure that Ron had already accepted what was going on eagerly and was quiet only because he wasn't listening to the story of his life. He had, after all, already lived it. Why listen again?). Harry's silence wasn't that of disregard, though; it was contemplative.

He desperately wanted all this to be true. He wanted to believe that Hermione was right, as always. He wished that he could believe it as easily as Ron and Hermione, but he couldn't. But as he listened to Hermione talk, he became less and less sure of why he couldn't. She was right. In their magical world, unexpected time travel was a logical explanation. Everything really did fit. So why was he still holding back?

When Dumbledore commented on his eyes, he threw caution to the wind and allowed belief to swarm over him. It rushed him like a wave that had been restrained for hours, building power yet not allowed to go anywhere. When it enveloped him, everything felt right. He was in the past. His best friends were alive. Hell, _everyone_ was alive. And in the past, he could keep it that way. Why not? Hermione's voice had said it was a second chance, and second chances were for making things all better, right? He could save it all.

So Harry looked up, took a deep breath, and spoke. "No, my eyes are my mother's."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Your mother?"

Harry glanced at Hermione, unsure of what the rules were in situations like this. What was he allowed to tell? Hermione just shrugged. It was up to him. "Yeah. Lily Evans."

This caused Dumbledore to erupt into a fit of laughter. "Oh, don't tell Miss Evans that! She may die of horror! You know, I told Minerva that eventually that girl would give in. Shame I can't show her the proof."

"So they're still not getting on?" Harry asked, frowning slightly, "That means we're when? Sometime before their seventh year, obviously."

Hermione smiled slightly at Harry, understanding that he had finally accepted that they were in the past.

Dumbledore shook his head, "No, they just began their seventh year."

Harry nodded in understanding. Ron looked at him curiously, "Why'd you think we were before their seventh year?"

"Dad didn't deflate his ego until their seventh year. It's when they started dating. If Mum still hated him, like Dumbledore said, we had to be before then."

Ron nodded. "So, what are we going to do?" he directed this question to Dumbledore.

"Well, as I have no idea how to send you forward a couple of decades, it would appear that you have only one choice: stay here. I'll have a few extra beds created in the Gryffindor common room, and explain to all the students tonight at dinner that you're here. By the way, what would you have me say to them?"

The three exchanged brief looks, saying without words that they thought the truth would be a very bad idea. Harry looked at Dumbledore, a grin beginning to form on his lips, "Well, I would love to not be Harry Potter for just once in my life."

"Very well. I'll think up a story for you. Exchange student is the most plausible excuse, how are your accents?" Hermione wrinkled her nose, and Ron and Harry looked down, unwilling to accept that they couldn't carry an accent to save their lives, but not wanting to claim they could either. Dumbledore smiled, "Well, you won't be exchange students then. Perhaps a London couple who could have no children of their own adopted you all. Perhaps you were raised in that city for nine years, before your adopted father was sent to Australia by the company he worked for. It could be that you three attended Silverstar Magical Academy for six years before your mother pined for England and your father agreed to move back."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, Professor, that sounds right."

The man nodded, "Very well then. I apologize, but I have a great deal of work to do right now. I trust you know your way around the school?" the three nodded. "Good, good. Find a place to stay until dinner, lunch just ended as it were- that was the meal you walked in on, Mr. Potter. Although it's not Mr. Potter now, is it? Think of a name you three like and work on your story. Just be at the gargoyle before dinner starts, so I can introduce you."

They nodded and stood up, clearly dismissed. As they walked out the door, Hermione turned around, one hand on the doorway. "Um, Professor? How are we going to get back?"

Dumbledore looked at her, blue eyes twinkling, "I think that is a problem meant to be solved at a different time. For now, just enjoy your trip."

She nodded and followed the boys down the stairs.

"Where to?" Ron asked, his arm automatically draping around Hermione's waist.

Hermione, who was looking at his hand and frowning, didn't reply. Harry began walking down the hallway, calling over his shoulder, "Room of Requirement. Nobody will bother us there."

They traveled down the halls of Hogwarts, thankfully not encountering any students on the way. When they got into the Room, furnished comfortably with an array of long couches and deep chairs, the boys turned expectantly toward Hermione. She was the one who made sense of everything and told them what they should do in situations like this.

She took on her expected role almost immediately, sitting on the couch beside Ron while Harry swung his feet over the arm of the chair he was on. "The way I see it, we have three immediate problems. One: our names. We need to pick a last name that's simple, so we can remember it. I don't see any point in changing our first names. There's nobody here who will hear the names Hermione, Ron, and Harry, and send up a red flag."

Ron shrugged, "That's easy enough. Smith's common, right? Nice and simple. Nobody will think twice about it."

Hermione nodded. "Good. The second problem has to do with you, Harry. If you don't want to be Harry Potter, you can't walk around looking like your father's clone."

Harry nodded. He had known that he would have to change his appearance ever since Dumbledore told them they were staying. "Can you change me, then?"

Nodding, Hermione crossed over to where Harry sat, her wand out and ready. "How's blond? That way you can keep your green eyes and they won't look out of place or anything." She quickly cast the charm without waiting for Harry's consent. "Mm. No good. You still look like you, only as if you got in a fight with the hair dye. I'm going to give you some freckles, all right? And let's see. I'll put a Disillusionment charm on your glasses, but don't forget where you put them when you take them off, or we won't find them 'til the spell wears off."

She stood back, inspecting Harry from all angles until she was sure that there was no way he could be mistaken for James. Then she returned to her seat on the couch and laced her fingers through Ron's. "Our third problem-" she raised her and Ron's entwined hands. "This."

Ron's eyes darted from his hand to Hermione to Harry and back again. "Wh- What do you mean, 'Mione?"

Hermione sighed, not looking in Ron's eyes. "I was just thinking… Dumbledore's story. He- he said that we were all adopted young and raised together. Well, that would make us siblings, by blood or not it doesn't matter. And siblings can't…." her voice trailed off.

Ron shook his head vehemently. "Then we'll change the story! For Merlin's sake, it's not as if what Dumbledore said was set in stone! You- you're a girl we met at school. Me 'n Harry got to know you real well, and found out in fourth year you'd been living in a- in a home the past six years! And our parents, they're real good people. They took you out of the home, and you've been living with us for the past two years. So you and me- it's nothing weird. Does that work for you?"

Hermione sighed in relief and relaxed against the couch. "Yeah. Yeah, that works."

There was silence for a little while, before Harry broke it by saying, "So, what do we do now?"

"We wait."


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I'm getting very sick of doing this. We all know that Harry Potter's not mine. If it were, I would be raking in the cash and have a much better writing style… I'd be British too, seeing as all this belongs to JK Rowling…

Chapter 4

Waiting, as Harry had discovered in the past seventeen years of his life, was perhaps the reason why the day was so long. Time seemed to slow down when you were waiting. Seconds became minutes, and every time you glanced at a clock, it appeared to have jumped back two minutes just to spite you for being so impatient. Harry didn't like waiting at all, and doing it in the past was no better than doing it while Voldemort rampaged through the world. So, to hopefully speed things up, Harry asked a question. "How do you think we'll get back?"

"Dumbledore told us not to worry about it just yet," Hermione replied with a frown.

"Humor me."

Hermione sighed. "Alright. Um, there might be a spell or something out there that would do it."

"What about a time turner?" Ron suggested.

"No good," Hermione said, shaking her head. "For one, they only send you back in time. And they can't control more than five hours. There have been rumors of people going back six, but I personally think it's all nonsense."

"Only five?" Harry asked, shocked. He had been under the impression that, as long as you had the patience to turn the time turner over hundreds of times, you could go back in time as far as you liked.

Hermione nodded. "Mm hmm. Time is- it's very hard to harness. A time turner is like…" she paused, trying to find a comparison that was accurate. "like a dam. You put a dam in the middle of a river, and for a little while it will stop the water. But the river keeps going. The dam doesn't stop it from running, and sooner or later the river will flow over. A dam can't control the water forever, and a time turner can't disrupt time more than five hours."

Ron nodded, "Okay, so time turners are out. What about your disembodied voice?" he nodded toward Hermione. "Will it send us back?"

"That's a rather unfair question, Ron. I don't even know whose voice it was. How would I know if it would send us back? Although it would be awfully rude to send us back here, give us a second chance and whatnot, and then not send us forward to see what we've changed."

"Changed?" Harry asked in shock. Yes, the idea had occurred to him. He could change everything in the past, if he thought up a way to do it. He could insure that everybody he loved survived, that Hogwarts remained untouched, that life would be better. He just hadn't thought it was a possibility. Sure, the last time they went into the past they had changed a few things, but that seemed different somehow. This was before he was born. If they meddled with this time stream, they might destroy it to the point that he didn't exist anymore.

"Of course changed!" Hermione exclaimed, looking at Harry strangely, "What else would a second chance be for? I don't know about you two, but I'm going to make the most of this. I'm going to spend every free moment I have thinking up ways to fix our time, and I think you should too."

"Why?" Ron asked. Harry was inclined to agree. If Hermione was thinking about it, there was no reason for them to as well. After all, any idea they came up with would be quashed by Hermione, who had thought up a better one.

Hermione shook her head. "I didn't mean think constantly about fixing things, even though you should. We'd be fixing your lives too. But I actually meant making the most of it. You especially, Harry. We're at Hogwarts, nineteen seventy-something! Your _parents_ are here! Do what you couldn't growing up and get to know them!"

A dazed look came over Harry. His _parents._ He could spend time with his _parents_. That was all he had ever wanted his entire life. But why was he allowing what Hermione had told him to shock him so? Of course his parents were here. He had known that. It just hadn't really registered. His parents were here, the same age as he. He'd be spending the majority of his life in the past in the same room with them. It was too much to take in. Harry's head was spinning.

Ron glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Dinner's in five minutes. We should go."

Harry and Hermione nodded, standing up and filing out the door. There were people in the hallway this time. Most were too distracted by their starving teenage stomachs to notice the three new faces amongst them, but those who did stopped to stare. The three were quite used to stares. True, most of the stares had been directed toward Harry, but once the war and Horcrux hunt began, Ron and Hermione became involved in a few well-known impossible feats and got their share of ogling. They ignored the people in the halls and made a beeline for Dumbledore's office.

He was leaning against the gargoyle, elbow on its head, and waiting with a smile on his face. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in front of him, returning his smile. He straightened when they came to him and smoothed the wrinkles out of his robe. "Well, are you ready for your first dinner at Hogwarts Misters and Miss-"

"Smith," Ron supplied.

Hermione shook her head, "Actually, Professor, the boys are both Smiths. I'm- Johnson. Hermione Johnson, a friend of theirs from Australia."

"Well then, Miss Johnson, shall we?" He indicated the hallway toward the Great Hall with a sweep of his arm. The teenagers nodded and began the once familiar trek to the dining area.

Instead of entering through the main doors, Dumbledore turned to the right and entered the room Harry recognized as the one he had gone to after his name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire. Dumbledore went to the door that led to the teacher's table and, with his hand on the knob, turned to speak to them, "I am going to introduce you as soon as I am sure that the majority of the school is in attendance. Just stand here by the door, and when you hear me say your names, feel free to enter."

Harry nodded and made himself comfortable on the floor beside the door, making sure to open it a crack after Dumbledore had left so that they could hear their names.

For the second time that day, the three waited. Harry looked around the room, studying it to pass the time. It was furnished differently from when he was last in there. Bookcases completely covered one wall, and the bookcases themselves were covered with a dizzying array of knickknacks. There were sculptures, magical instruments, a few musical instruments, books, magazines, old graded essays, some confiscated Zonko's items, and what appeared to be the remnants of a blown up Pensieve. Hermione was meandering in front of the shelves, running her hands over much of what was there. She stopped suddenly, eyes wide, and ran her hands over an area that Harry was positive was empty. He watched as Hermione gasped, grabbed whatever she could see and Harry couldn't, and stowed it in the inside pocket of her robe.

Ron was standing in a corner beside the door, arms crossed and chuckling.

Harry shifted his raised eyebrow look from the thieving Hermione to Ron. "What's so funny?"

Ron grinned at him, then looked at the door, "It's just what Dumbledore said earlier: 'Are you ready for your first dinner at Hogwarts?' Well, if you think about it, it really is. Our first dinner, I mean. Not for our memories, but as far as time is concerned, this is the first time we've ever been to Hogwarts."

Harry grinned slightly at the confusing idea and was about to respond when he heard Dumbledore's voice on the other side of the door.

"May I have your attention, please?" he said, "I've a surprise for all of you. Earlier today, I received a letter from a former student of mine, a Mr. Smith. He had just returned from Australia with his two sons and a friend of theirs. His children had attended a school in Australia for the past six years. Now, however, they are here for their final year of schooling. I trust that you all will make them feel welcome; it is not an easy thing moving so late in life. Harry and Ron Smith, and Hermione Johnson, if you three would come out?"

"That's our cue," Hermione murmured and stepped through the doorway, followed by the two boys. They emerged behind the teachers table, and made their way quickly to the center where Dumbledore sat. Every eye in the room was on them.

Dumbledore nodded to them as they stood beside him, looking down at the four house tables. "They were sorted earlier today in my office. Gryffindor, please welcome your three newest members."

There was scattered applause around the Great Hall. A situation like this had never occurred before, and the students were unsure of how they should respond. Welcoming a first year enthusiastically was one thing, but some new seventh year was completely different.

It seemed that Dumbledore expected no more from the students. He smiled jovially and pointed at the Gryffindor table, "That's where you three will be sitting from now on. I'm sure that you can find somebody to show you around the school. Someone to escort you to your common room, classes, everything."

Hermione groaned, "He's right," she said as they walked cautiously toward the Gryffindor table, "As far as all these people know, this is our first day here. We don't know our way to _anywhere_."

"So we have to stumble around like first years?" Ron asked in disgust.

"Oh, no," Hermione shook her head. "The first years have been here a week and a half. They don't stumble too much anymore."

Ron glared at her, and looked at the table they were supposed to eat. "See any empty seats?"

Harry quickly scanned the length of the table. He found tons of eyes staring at him and the other two, but only one empty seat. "One," he told the other two, "at the very end. Next to some first year with a cold."

Hermione turned a pleading eye toward Dumbledore who nodded, smiled, and flicked his wand. Three chairs appeared a little way down and the trio sat down quickly, ignoring the craned necks of their watchers.

Ron immediately dove toward a plate of chicken in front of him. Hermione rolled her eyes and looked around her. Harry was beside her doing the same. Actually, to be honest, he wasn't looking around. He was looking only in one direction, his eyes trained on the four people across from them, and his mouth hanging open slightly.

Hermione followed his gaze and jumped slightly in shock. She was looking across the table at…Harry? No, not Harry. James. He did look exactly like Harry, only his eyes were hazel. Next to him was a much younger and healthier looking Remus. Sirius was on James's other side (Hermione nearly retched when she caught herself thinking that he really was quite attractive), and Peter was next to Sirius, eating his way steadily through a very large plate. James, Remus, and Sirius all looked very uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the fact that Harry was openly gaping at them.

James cleared his throat, watching Harry warily, and turned toward Hermione. "Um, this probably isn't the best way to start a first impression, but is your friend... well. Is he throwing through a crooked Quidditch post?"

Ron, who had finally realized who was across from him and what James had said, choked on his potatoes, then- once he was able to breathe again- laughed loudly.

Hermione grinned, and elbowed Harry in the ribs, "Flies, Harry." He immediately closed his mouth, but didn't stop staring. Hermione laughed at him then replied to James, "You'll have to forgive him. He just went through a very hard break up. Nice fellow named Hector-"

Hermione could go no further, for Harry had heard her, and spun around indignantly, "_Hermione_! I did _not_- why would you- I never- _why_?"

Ron and Hermione were both laughing loudly now at Harry's bright red face and incoherent sputtering. Hermione patted his shoulder, "Relax, Harry. I just said it to snap you out of whatever you were going through. He's not gay," she directed her last comment to the boys across from her.

Harry, still bright red, nodded. "Right. Um- sorry 'bout that. It's just that you look a _lot_ like somebody I knew before. It just shocked me, I guess."

James nodded, still looking at Harry cautiously. "Right. I'm James Potter." He held his hand out to Hermione to shake and nodded to Harry and Ron. "You three are Harry, Ron, and Hermione, right?"

"You paid attention to Dumbledore," Remus muttered darkly, "I'm shocked. I may just die."

James rolled his eyes, "That's Remus. You'll have to forgive him. It's that time of the month."

Remus's head whipped around so quickly his neck cracked. If looks could kill, the glare Remus shot James would leave no hope for resurrection.

Hermione nodded sympathetically toward Remus, aware that they couldn't allow anyone to know that she knew Remus became petulant around the full moon. "Yes, PMS can make one snappish."

Remus glared at her as well and returned to eating his dinner as a slumping pile of attacked manhood.

Sirius leaned toward Hermione in what would have been a very debonair way, had his elbow not gone directly into a bowl of mashed potatoes. She grinned wryly at him as he looked darkly at his insubordinate elbow. He quickly recovered, shrugged, and extended a hand toward Hermione. "Hello, lovely. I'm Sirius Black."

Hermione took his hand, ignoring Ron's appalled look. "Hello, Sirius. I'm taken. Pleasure meeting you, though."

"Oh, but long distance relationships never work," he winked at her.

"Then I suppose it's a good thing I'm sitting right next to him," Hermione replied with a sweet smile. "Trust me, Sirius. It's for the best. You'd regret it in the future."

Harry snorted, amused by the bumbling, hormone driven part of his godfather he had never known.

James was laughing. His voice might not sound like Harry's, but his laugh was identical. He reached over and patted Sirius on the shoulder, "Tough luck, mate. I think you need a bit of help with the ladies."

"Says the man who has been refused ninety-seven times to date by the same person," Remus muttered.

Holding his hand to his heart in faux shock, James replied, "You hurt me, Remus. Truly, you do. And one day, I swear to you all, Lily will say yes."

"Only because you've fed her Amorentia."

James pointed to the door with a chicken leg, "Go get run over by a…hippogriff."

Sirius leaned in towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione slyly, eyes darting back and forth, "See that redhead down at the end?" he whispered. "That's Lily Evans, the idol or Jamesey boy's admiration. His obsession, really. Hasn't looked at another girl since third year. We've got a pool going on how long she'll keep refusing him. If she says yes sometime before the end of the year, I owe Remus twelve Galleons."

"So you don't think she'll ever say yes?" Hermione asked curiously.

Harry was silent, once more staring openly. His mother was there, sitting at the same table as he. She was laughing with two other girls and boy who appeared a year or two younger. Merlin, she was amazing. She was his _mother_.

"Oy, Peter!" Sirius elbowed the short boy beside him, "Get your head out of your stomach and say hello to the new kids."

Harry had either forgotten that Peter would be there or refused to accept or even think about it. Whatever the case, he was sitting there, just one leap away from Harry. It would be so easy to just attack him now, get him out of the way before he could ruin Harry's life.

Hermione saw her friend's face as he looked at Peter, and she knew what would come next. Discreetly, she pulled out her wand below the table and immobilized Harry from the waist down. She leaned over and whispered quietly, "Do _not_ attack this boy for no reason. He's done nothing yet, and you cannot possibly justify killing him for no reason. I'll let you move again once dinner's over."

He glared at her as she extended her hand toward Peter, smiling in what a stranger would have believed was a very sincere way. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Peter was it?" Oh, she was good. When did she learn to act so well? Harry knew he couldn't trust himself to act as nicely, so instead he stared at his plate, thinking of the people _besides_ Wormtail who were here.

His parents, his godfather, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, all the professors- they were all alive. Alive and happy. He smiled as he listened to Hermione tell the Marauders the story of their made-up life. All alive. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe life really could be changed for the better.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"**Oh, stop sulking**_." _Fate snapped irritably. He was leaning back in his chair, eyeing Time, who was slumped over the Game board dejectedly.

"_You cheated_**," **Time muttered dully, glaring at the board and then his opponent.

"**We have gone over this more times than there are people on Earth**_,"_ Fate said in a way that would have been considered haughty had he not been one of the most powerful beings in existence, "**Fate does not cheat, nor do I need to. I do things because they are meant to happen."**

"_Then what was that little stunt with the girl_**?"** Time seemed determined to rightfully accuse Fate of something.

Waving one hand toward the board airily, Fate replied, "**You rolled a six, and I a ten. Rules of the Game say that if the higher roll is a ten, a helpful item may be introduced. That is all I did."**

"_You introduced two items. And how is telling her about us helpful?"_

"**First of all, the second item was a necessity, so that none but the girl found the first. And I gave it to her simply because you and I both know that she will not truly focus on her task until she has answered the question of why they are in the past. Now, if you are done trying to disqualify me, I would like to get back to the Game."**

* * *

Ron, Hermione, and Harry were following the Marauders quietly, making their way to the Gryffindor common room. They were on the fourth floor when Hermione yanked them both into a neighboring corridor.

"Hermione!" Harry gasped, massaging his shoulder (Hermione had wrenched his arm very hard in an unusual way to get him into the corridor). "What was that for? They're going to notice we're not behind them!"

Hermione peered around the corner, watching the four boys walk away. She shook her head and returned her attention to the two in front of her, "I don't think so. James and Sirius are arguing about the correct way to go about trying toget into the girls' dorm. They won't notice we've gone."

"So what's this about?" Ron asked, leaning against the wall.

"Two things. One: Harry, I need you to _swear _to me you won't do anything to Wormtail."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione held up her hand and interrupted.

"I know what he's done, Harry, and I don't care. As of right now, he's just a seventh year trying to survive Hogwarts. You kill him and you could end up locked in Azkaban for the remainder of your life. _That_ can't possibly help the world."

"But he's a Death Eater!" Harry yelled, shocked that she was defending the man who had, in essence, killed his parents.

"That's just it, Harry," she replied, staring directly into his eyes, trying to make him understand. "He's _not_. Not yet, anyway. You can't validate killing a seventeen year old who's done nothing except cheat on a few homework assignments. Now, please, I need you to swear."

Harry looked to the ground, avoiding her gaze. He knew what she had said was the truth, but his mind couldn't overrule his heart, and his heart was telling him to give the little rat the beating of his short life. Still, if he attacked one of his father's friends, there would be no way James would accept _him_ as a friend. And that's what he really wanted, right? To get to know his parents? Gloomily he nodded his head, agreeing to what Hermione demanded. "Alright, I swear. I won't attack Wormtail."

"We probably shouldn't call him that, either," Hermione said thoughtfully, "At least, not unless we get them to tell us their Marauder names. Now, on to the more important reason for pulling you two back here."

"More important than saving a traitor's life?" Ron asked dryly.

Hermione glared at him and pulled something out of her inside pocket. For a moment, Harry thought she had lost her mind. She was holding on to nothing. Then, however, her fingers began searching the blank patch of air she was clasping, and she pulled apart two bits of air…and an invisibility cloak fell to the ground.

Grinning triumphantly at the shocked look on the boys' faces, she bent down to pick the cloak up. "I felt it on one of the bookshelves in that room. I felt it, but I couldn't see it. So I studied it a bit more with my hands, and realized that I knew the texture. I had felt it so many times when I was wearing your cloak," she nodded toward Harry. "And I figured it would have to come in handy. We've never gone a year without it, and we've become so dependent on it that I don't think we'd be able to. So, I stole it."

"What was it wrapped around?" Ron asked, looking at the object still in Hermoine's hand.

"A book," she frowned as she studied the title. "_Meant to Be? An In-Depth Study of the Theory of Fate and Other Powers that Be_ by Dez Tino. Strange."

Ron scoffed, "Fate? Powers that Be? Sounds like Divination to me. Drop that off with Trelawney, why don't you?"

"Trelawney's not here yet," Hermione murmured absently. "Couldn't hurt, right?" She returned the book to her pocket.

"You're going to _read_ that?" Ron asked incredulously. He raised his voice a pitch to imitate Hermione, "_I'm going to spend every free minute I have thinking of a way to fix our time._ Sorry, 'Mione, but I don't think that book's gonna help you."

"It just seems curious to me, Ron," she snapped, crossing her arms defensively.

"Of course it does. It's a book. Merlin knows nothing gets your attention like a _book_."

"You don't have to sound so scornful, Ronald."

Harry rolled his eyes, more annoyed with their bickering than usual, and grabbed the cloak out of Hermione's hands. "I'm going to the mirror passage. Please, don't let me stop you. Continue your incessant fighting."

"Harry, stop!" Hermione snapped, rushing forward a few feet to join him. "That was rude."

"Some say that fighting in front of others is rude," he muttered, tapping his wand against a full-length mirror that guarded the entrance to a passage connecting with a portrait beside the Fat Lady.

A few minutes later, they stood outside the portrait, unable to enter.

"Well?" Ron asked after several moments of quiet.

"Well what?" Hermione snapped, still in a fighting mood with him.

"What's the password?"

"How should I know, you-"

Whatever Hermione thought Ron was, she was unable to say, for she was interrupted by a voice from behind. "Potter left you, didn't he?"

Harry spun around and was greeted by his own eyes staring back at him. They were exactly alike, if you took the time to look. However, these eyes were on the face of a girl- young woman really- with bright red hair flowing down her back and a smirk much more friendly than Draco Malfoy's on her lips. It was his mother.

"Um, n-no," Harry stuttered, proud that he could actually talk when faced with this person for the first time in memory. "He didn't."

Lily patted his shoulder, and walked past them so she was in front of the portrait, "It's okay; you don't have to lie for him. I know what he's like. And he calls himself Head Boy. Ha! Haughty, arrogant, egotistical-"

"As entertaining as your synonyms are, dear," the Fat Lady interrupted, "none of them are the password, and I would love it if you could just say it and leave me be."

Lily blushed slightly, "Sorry. Niffler." The portrait swung aside, revealing the way into the common room. Lily led the way in, calling over her shoulder, "That's the password. It changes every so often, but you'll be sure to know when it does. I'm Lily Evans, by the way. Head Girl. I know how intimidating this school can be, so anything you need, feel free to come to me. Do you have your timetables yet? I'll show you to your classes when you get them. It's a big school- easy to get lost in. Especially when the staircases move. Maps are always helpful. Would you like a map? Which one of you is Harry and which is Ron?"

Harry could only gape, too shocked by her onslaught of words to respond. Why hadn't anyone ever told him how fast his mother talked?

"I'm Ron. The- the blond with the fish face is Harry."

Harry glared at his best friend, "Just because my jaw unhinges once in a while does not mean I have a _fish face_."

"Lily, my love!" James's voice came from a chair near the fireplace. Harry's chair, actually. It seemed that the furniture arrangement hadn't changed in all the years. "You found them!"

"You lost them," Lily snapped, "and if you ever call me that again, you'll be having a close encounter of an uncomfortable degree with the giant squid!"

James stood up and joined them, standing before Lily looking very put out, "Ah, come on, Evans. I was just being friendly."

"You were being _something_, and it wasn't 'Hey, mate, let me borrow your notes' friendly." She turned her attention to Harry, Ron and Hermione, "You three would do well to avoid this one. We had to have an extension built on to the common room to accommodate his ego."

"Be fair, Evans," James sounded slightly hurt, "I haven't done anything to you."

"Not this year," she spat before spinning on her heel and marching up the stairs to the girls' dorm.

James sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Someday," he murmured, before looking at the three before him and shrugging and adopting his usual grin. "She loves me. What happened to you? One minute you were behind us, and when we got up here you weren't. Did Peeves get you?"

Ron shook his head and jerked his thumb toward Hermione, rolling his eyes, "No, 'Mione just found some tapestry and decided she _had_ to tell us the entire story behind it."

Hermione caught on easily, and rolled her eyes at Ron in return. As she flopped down into the couch across from Remus and Peter, she replied, "It's an interesting story, Ron! Mythology says that nobody could build that castle until Merlin came along."

"I don't _care_, 'Mione," Ron groaned, lifting her legs off the couch, sitting down, then draping her legs across him.

"You should! A little more knowledge wouldn't do you any harm."

"Are they always like this?" James asked with a raised eyebrow, returning to his armchair.

Harry eyed it enviously. That had been _his_ chair. Sighing, silently mourning the loss of the chair, he sat on the floor and leaned against Hermione and Ron's couch. "Like this?" he replied to his father. "Oh, no. They're being pretty civil right now. More than civil, this is downright nice. I expect they'll start snogging any time now."

Hermione reached down and cuffed him lightly.

"You know, James, they kinda remind me of you and Lily."

It took all of Harry's energy to refrain from glaring at Wormtail, who(**m?**) had just spoke. How dare that sniveling creature even _think_ about talking to his father?

"Without the snogging," Remus muttered, measuring the essay he was working on.

"Remind me why I keep you around, again?" James said to his friend sourly.

Satisfied that his essay was indeed long enough, Remus began rolling the parchment up. "Sarcasm and dry wit. Your little group is nothing without it."

"And they say I have the ego problems," James muttered.

Harry couldn't help but smile at his father. So this was what he was really like. Seventeen years of hearing opposing viewpoints about how James acted from Snape, Remus, Sirius, everybody, and finally Harry could find out for himself. This situation wasn't bad at all, even if Wormtail was sitting, completely untouchable, within easy pummeling distance.

The group around the fire was silent. Wormtail was diligently copying James's homework, Remus was reading a book, James was staring longingly toward the girls' dormitory, Ron and Hermione had decided to forego snogging and were instead lying comfortably in each other's arms, and Harry was sitting in the middle, taking it all in. Silent times like this were good, Harry decided. Peaceful was good. Not having to look constantly over your shoulder, waiting for an attack from Voldemort, was good. Everything was.

A deafening bang sounded from upstairs. Seconds later, Sirius was flying down the stairs to the boys' dormitory, completely covered in white dust. He flew across the room, landing on the opposite wall and leaving a Sirius shaped white imprint five feet above the ground. He stood up shakily, grinning good-naturedly at the people in the common room and dusting himself off. He walked, limping slightly, over to where the other Marauders sat. Collapsing on the table that had once held Remus's essay, he told the others, "Sorry, mates. Looks like there's no chance of digging our way to the girls' dorm."

"Told you it wouldn't work," James replied.

Laughter erupted around Harry, who just sat, grinning lightly.

Silence wasn't the only good thing in the world.


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: nope, not mine. I'm not in the mood for a more creative disclaimer today.

Chapter 6

Darkness. Everywhere- black, empty darkness. Enveloping. Suffocating. Thick, unending, miserable darkness. And then a scream. A continual, high-pitched scream. So terrified, so pain-filled, so familiar…

Ginny's.

Harry was running now, through the darkness as thick and difficult to walk through as the walls he knew must be around him. But her screams didn't stop, so neither did Harry. Left foot, right foot, left again, but still no closer to the source of the screaming.

And then, flickering ominously a few short feet away, was a beacon of hope. A torch. It danced, beckoning him to it- the only light in this wretched black. That was where Ginny was. The screams came from behind that torch.

But Harry couldn't move. His feet wouldn't rise up from the floor. He glanced down and saw them- snakes. Hundreds of them, coiled around his feet and legs, pinning him to the ground. Poison green; blood red; deep, despairing blue. Their colors glowed like jewels in the gloom. They were keeping him from Ginny.

_Get off!_ He hissed, attempting to shake them off his foot. It would not even lift off the floor.

_Why do you seek to save one who is already dead?_ Came the sibilant voice of a large snake- Nagini?- coiled around both his legs.

_She's not dead!_ Harry replied, desperate to get to that torch, to save her. _I- I can hear her!_

_Can you?_ The same snake replied. She raised her head so that her blood red eyes were locked with Harry's. _Can you really hear the girl?_

Harry listened. Tears began to fill his eyes. No, he couldn't. The scream had ended. Ginny had…

_No! She's not dead! She's not! _

_Are you so sure? Look._

Harry obeyed the sinister hissing. His eyes reluctantly traveled to the torch. A door opened, slowly, darkly, beside the light. And inside- a girl. She lay on the floor, motionless, bloody. Her clothes were tattered, barely existent. Blood, everywhere. On her back, her legs, pooling on the floor beneath her.

A Death Eater stood behind the girl. His white mask grinned wickedly at Harry, The Boy Who Could Only Watch. The masked figure crouched. He reached his hand out- pale, skeletal, covered in cracked and dried blood. It reached out, as if to touch that flowing red hair, now caked with wet, glowing blood. And then the Death Eater grabbed the girl's head and snapped it around.

_CRACK_! The neck was broken, and the girl's face was now facing Harry. It was bruised, it was bloody, it was empty of life. But it was undoubtedly Ginny.

"NO! Ginny, no, please!"

* * *

"NO! Ginny, no, please!"

Harry was thrashing about, tangled in the blankets of his four-poster bed and stuck within his own mind- unable to break free of the nightmare.

"I'll make an oath to Merlin, I will," Sirius grumbled, pulling his pillow over his head to block out Harry's yells. "Whichever of you that is, I'll kill you. I swear on anything, I will kill you and serve you as Monday's breakfast."

"Ginny, please, I know you're not-"

"It's Harry," Ron said, quickly disentangling himself from his sheets and making his way over to Harry's bed.

"Good," came Sirius's muffled reply. "We'll have Harry on rye for breakfast."

James was in the bed next to Harry. He lifted his head groggily and squinted at the thrashing form on the nearby bed. "Wha' a 'ell's 'is pro'em?" James was not his most articulate at 3:24 a.m.

"It's a nightmare," Ron said. The entire room was up by now, and none of them seemed at all pleased by what was occurring. The redhead shook his friend forcefully and was rewarded with a punch on the nose.

"Get the hell away from her!" Harry yelled, swatting the air near Ron wildly. "She can't be dead! She's not!"

"Who's dead?" Peter asked quietly, watching the scene before him with alert eyes. He, at least, seemed to wake up quickly.

"Nobody!" Ron snapped, trying to get to Harry again, but was blocked by the constantly flying fists. "Oh, bloody hell, this is insane!" He walked angrily to his bedside table and began searching through the half unpacked clothes that had somehow managed to get on it (he had snuck to the Room of Requirement with the Invisibility cloak to get clothes for himself, Harry, and Hermione earlier that night) looking for his wand.

"Every time! Every _single_ time! He has a nightmare, won't let me get to him, and I lose—my bloody—_wand!"_

The door swung open. Every pair of eyes that was not buried under a pillow in a desperate attempt to drown out Harry's cries turned toward it curiously. Hermione stood there, looking furious.

"He's screaming loud enough to be heard in the girls' dorm, Ron!" she snapped as she made her way to Harry's bed. "Why didn't you wake him up?"

"Couldn't find my wand," Ron muttered, looking down at his feet.

Hermione rolled her eyes and flicked her wand toward Harry. As the war progressed, and more and more people died or were injured, Harry's nightmares increased. Ron and Hermione had tried everything to wake him up, from shaking him to dangling him by the ankle. They found that the most effective, painless way for everyone was to dump water on the afflicted boy. That was what Hermione did to Harry, the person living in the past, yet mentally captured by the future.

Harry sat up suddenly, gasping as the icy water soaked into his skin. He turned his wild, tear-filled eyes toward Hermione. "She's dead, Hermione. I saw it- she was dead. He had her, and- and- she was…" he curled up and sobbed.

The girl immediately sat beside her friend, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders. Her eyes, however, were scanning the room, looking for familiar red hair…there he was. Ron. "Who is it this time?" she asked quietly, not trusting Ron to read her lips in the dark of three a.m.

"Ginny," he replied, his voice just as soft. She had been the subject of some of Harry's most frequent nightmares. It always unnerved him, hearing Harry crying that his sister was dead. It made him think about what could have been.

Hermione instantly hugged Harry tighter, "Oh, Harry. Listen to me, okay? She's not dead, remember? We got her out of there. She recovered in St. Mungo's for two weeks, and then we sent her into hiding. She's fine. She's alive."

The night that Ginny had been captured was perhaps the most terrifying night for both Ron and Harry. She had been in Diagon Alley with Tonks when the Death Eaters attacked. In the confusion, Tonks was knocked out and Ginny captured. Ron and Harry had been furious. They knew of a nearby Death Eater encampment and, knowing that that was where she would most likely be taken, they attacked. They trusted in strength and fury rather than intelligence and planning to get in. They almost didn't make it.

When they found Ginny, she was bound and gagged in a cell, passed out and bleeding profusely. She had four broken ribs, a broken femur, cracked skull, internal bleeding, and snakebites on her ankles. Once the boys successfully got her out she had been in recovery for two weeks. The second she was released, Harry demanded that she be hidden in Italy- the only place in Europe where Voldemort had yet to gain a foothold. Ginny and Ron (injured severely while taking a few curses aimed at his sister) had nearly died that night. In Harry's nightmares, they always did.

"I _saw_ her," Harry whispered, eyes wide. "Just like that night, only this time- this time she was…" he couldn't finish.

Hermione looked up, suddenly very aware of all the people staring at her and Harry. All those people and none of them knew who they really were. None of them _could_ know. Harry wasn't the most sensible after waking up from a nightmare. He could easily say something that would tell the Marauders that they were from the future. "Come on," she said quietly, "Let's go talk in the common room. You coming, Ron?"

"As soon as I find my wand," the redhead replied, returning to his bedside table. What he really wanted to do was some damage control. Hermione sensed that, and led Harry down the stairs.

The second they were out of sight, the four others in the room sat up and looked quizzically at Ron. It seemed that Harry's sobs about a dead girl had even gotten Sirius to pull his head out from under the pillow. There would be questions, and Ron knew it.

"Who's Ginny?" Remus asked immediately.

"Is she really dead?" Peter added.

Ron whirled on him, eyes wide. His sister? Really dead? It was best not even to _think_ about such things, let alone say them out loud! "No!" he said that one word more forcefully than he had meant to. "No, she's not dead. She…had an accident, a little while ago. Came pretty close to dying."

"Harry was close to her?" That was Sirius, ever the keen observer.

Ron nodded, "Very. It just kind of scared him, that's all. But…well, you probably shouldn't talk to Harry about this. He doesn't like to be reminded of his nightmares. Ginny's accident- it took a toll on him. Just- don't talk about it, okay?" With that, Ron picked up his wand and went to join his friends in the common room.

"You buying it?" Remus asked quietly.

James shook his head. "Not a chance. But we'll talk in the morning. Right now I just want to- to sleep," he yawned, pulling the curtains around his bed closed.

* * *

At breakfast that morning, the Marauders sat in a huddled group at the end of the Gryffindor table. Harry was a few seats away, nodding off in front of his cereal. Ron and Hermione had gone with one of the Ravenclaw prefects on trip through the school to collect textbooks for the three new kids.

"So you think what he said was true? About the Ginny girl?"

Harry's head snapped up. He looked at the Marauders, one of whom he was pretty sure had just asked that question. James glanced sharply over at Harry, who quickly averted his eyes to the owls pouring in overhead. He feigned interest in them, all the while listening intently to the hushed conversation a few feet away from him.

"I think it's true," Sirius whispered, "I just don't think it's the _whole_ truth. He said it was an accident, right? But he never told us what type of accident. You don't get nightmares just because someone you care about fell off a broom."

"So what do you think happened?" Peter asked, somewhat loudly. The others shushed him.

Sirius shrugged, "I dunno. But didn't you _hear_ Harry last night? 'Get away from her! She can't be dead!' Sounds like someone- _did_ something to her or something."

"You think someone tried to kill whoever she is," James stated matter-of-factly. "Well, maybe…"

"Maybe that's the reason those three came here!" Peter sounded positively thrilled. "Maybe they were trying to get away from a murderer or something!

Remus rolled his eyes, looking disgusted at where this conversation was leading. "Look, I don't know what happened. I don't really care. It's their business, not ours. But if you three want to keep on making up stories about what you think happened, you might want to listen to this- that Ginny girl's not the only one. You heard Hermione when she came in. 'Who is it this time?' He has these dreams about more than one person." With that, he gathered his bag and walked off, presumably to his first class.

Harry could sense six eyes all trained in his direction. He made an effort not to look over at them as he too exited the Great Hall. He should have cast a silencing charm on his bed. Didn't he know that, no matter how happy he was before going to bed, the dreams always came? Why hadn't he anticipated it? He could have yelled out everything about the future while dreaming. He could have blown it for them the first night there. And now theMarauders were suspicious and, surprisingly, making assumptions that were very close to again, Harry decided, would he forget something l ike a silencing charm. He would not make the same mistake twice.

He glanced down at the timetable McGonagall had given him the moment he sat down for breakfast. His first class was Charms. He was going in the wrong direction. Great. Well, he was supposed to be new, wasn't he? Why not keep going in the wrong direction? He'd take the long way to Charms, get there a few minutes late, and have some alone time on the way.

"I'm telling you, Dumbledore, I left it in that room!" there was a voice coming from a doorway a few meters ahead of Harry. He stopped to listen (eavesdropping was a habit he never could break).

"Those new_students_ must have stolen it from me!" Harry knew that voice. He seemed to recall it, vaguely…

"What, exactly, was it?" that voice was Dumbledore's.

"A book!" the other voice exclaimed. "It belonged to a friend of mine. She sent it to me after an argument we had a few weeks ago."

"And you say it was wrapped in an Invisibility cloak?"

The unknown voice sounded flustered now. "Well, it was- er- not exactly a book that I would like to be found reading, you see. Lots of Divination junk. Things that wouldn't do well associated with me."

"Yes, I see," Dumbledore sounded amused. "If it is in an Invisibility cloak, why would you presume that it was stolen? You could have easily misplaced it, and then not be able to find it."

"B-but-"

It was killing Harry. He _knew_ that voice. He just couldn't place it-

"Harry!"

Harry spun around. Lily was at the end of the hallway, grinning brightly at him. "Lose your way? Come on, you've got Charms with me first. I asked McGonagall if I could see your schedule. I've got a lot of the same classes as you, so I'll be sure to show you around whenever you need it," she grabbed his arm and began directing him toward the Charms classroom. "I insist you sit by me today. I can help you with whatever you need. Would you like the notes from the first week? I've got them with me now. Of course, we're just doing review of last year right now, but I've got last year's notes too if that's helpful. I think my friends are going to love you. They're always going on about the 'strong, silent type', and you seem to fit that perfectly…"

Harry smiled and listed as his mother chatted, smiling up at him occasionally. She talked- a _lot_- but it was comforting. Her voice was warm, and she didn't make him feel uncomfortable as most chatty strangers did.

He let her voice drift over him, thinking about what had happened in just one short day. Nightmares, people thinking he was lying, people thinking he was stealing, a mysteriously familiar voice. Yes, it was starting out just like any other year. Even in the past, Harry Potter could not have a calm school year.


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Not mine, we know it, I'm sick of writing these things.

Chapter 7

Lily's group, as Harry discovered during Charms, was an extremely odd mix of people. There was, of course, Lily. She was the studious, rule oriented type of person who shattered all stereotypes of quiet brainiacs by talking incessantly. Her constant chatter destroyed even more preconceived ideas of talkers by not being annoying in the least. She was kind, witty, completely infatuated with James (Harry, at least, knew this to be true), and she was a walking stereotype smasher.

Elaina Copper was of average height with dark brown hair that was cropped at her jaw and curved in slightly to frame her face. Her large brown eyes were slightly reminiscent of Bambi's mother. When Harry had first seen her, her chair was tipped on its back legs, her feet were propped up on the table and a robe two or three sizes too big was draped across the back of her chair so that she could flaunt her broken school uniform. She wore a brown turtleneck, her Gryffindor tie on loosely over it, and a pair of pants that looked as if they could have been stolen from her older brother's Hogwarts uniform. The only make-up that adorned her face was dark red lipstick that was a stark contrast to her incredibly white teeth, easily visible due to her constant smile.

Arnau Blackman was tall. Perhaps taller than Ron. His sandy blond hair was as messy as Harry's, if not more, and there was a cowlick in the back. His light blue eyes were shaded by long lashes and above a thin, straight nose. His jaw was square and he had a jagged scar traveling down his left cheek. He was quiet; when he had met Harry, he shook his hand strongly, nodded, but said nothing. His silence coupled with height and scar would have made him extremely intimidating, but Harry could sense a kindness that made him think otherwise.

And then there was Fee. Fiona Riley was a Ravenclaw. Since they shared Charms with the Gryffindors, she sat with her friends in that house. She was a slight girl with a mass of thick, extremely curly black hair hanging in abundance around her thin face. Her eyes were dark blue, her nose slightly upturned, and her mouth small. She spoke quietly, her words carefully chosen and eloquently enunciated. A pair of thin-rimmed blue glasses, most likely for reading, was propped atop her head amongst her ample curls. Most interesting about her, however, was the pendant that hung around her neck on a strip of leather. It was a deep red stone in the shape of a flame. At the rounded base were the upturned head and spread wings of a raven. It was, Harry knew, a pendant that long ago belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw.

It had shocked Harry when he saw it. He hadn't been expecting to see it ever again. Yet here it was, hung around the neck of his mother's best friend. He sat down at the table between Fee (apparently she loathed being called Fiona) and Lily. As he waited for class to begin, and for Ron and Hermione to show up, he turned to Fee, saying casually, "Interesting pendant."

She whipped around to look at him, her almond shapedeyes opened slightly wider than usual. After a moment of silence, she replied, "Interesting word."

It took Harry a moment to figure out what she meant. "What, pendant? It's not such an interesting word when that's what it really is."

"I'm aware of what it really is," she told him. "I simply didn't know that _others_ were aware of it."

"What's the difference between a pendant and a necklace?" Elaina asked, leaning forward on the table, chin in hand.

"Nothing," Fee said quietly, her eyes never leaving Harry.

Harry raised an eyebrow. Interesting. She must not have told her friends about the pendant's former owner. And that meant that she hadn't told her friends who she was either. Well, Harry would not be the one to divulge her secrets. He was, if anything, very good at keeping secrets inside of him. "Pendant is just a fancy word for a fancy necklace," Harry told the others, conveniently forgetting to mention that, in the traditional sense of the word, pendants had powerful warding spells worked into them. "Hers is quite old, so I think it deserves the name."

"How do you know it's old?" Lily asked, leaning over Harry and inspecting her friend's jewelry.

Fee was looking at him with mild alarm. "Yes, I'm rather interested in that myself."

Harry shrugged. "That stone. See the smoky quality of it around the edges of the bird? It's like that because the bird was magically etched inside when the technique was first invented. Nowadays it's been perfected so that you could etch inside a diamond and the edges of the picture will be clear. Because her pendant _isn't_, it has to be at least five hundred years old." He silently thanked Hermione for telling him this excitedly all those months ago. If she hadn't he would have been stuck making up a story, and he had never been very good at that.

Arnau had a strange look on his face. "What are you, a jewelry expert?"

Harry grinned at him lightly. "No, I just know lots of random things about magical technique. What I just told you was one of the more random bits. Oh, hey guys. You managed to find your way here before class actually started." His last comment was directed toward Hermione and Ron, both of whom had just entered the classroom.

Hermione smiled as she and Ron walked over. "Yeah, and I see you needed help."

Shrugging, Harry replied, "What can I say, it's a big school and my first time in it. Lily offered to show me to class, I took her offer."

"Who're you lot?" Ron asked, motioning to the three unknown people in front of him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Lily exclaimed, looking horrified at herself. "This is Elaina Copper, Arnau Blackman, and Fiona Riley."

"Fee," the girl interjected, not noticing that both Hermione's and Ron's eyes darted toward her pendant in surprise.

Lily waved her off impatiently. "She doesn't like her full name. Guys, this is Hermione and Ron. I don't remember their lasts names, but I guess that doesn't really matter since they were introduced formally last night. Would you two like to join us? I'm sure we could enlarge the table and the Professor wouldn't mind. He may even give us extra points if we use some difficult charm to do it." She smiled up at the two people in front of her.

The Marauders entered before they could reply. James's eyes landed on Lily immediately and he sauntered over, the other three in tow. "Hello, Lily," he greeted brightly, sitting atop the desk beside her.

"Get off my desk, Potter," she snapped while Elaina simultaneously said, "Lily, always Lily. You hurt me, James, you really do," she put her hand to her heart to emphasize what she was saying. "Why don't _I_ ever get a hello? Is that too much to ask for?"

James grinned at her. "Elaina, my darling! Hello, how are you?"

Elaina grinned. "Oh, I'm just fine, thanks for caring. You won't be in a second, though." Her smile widened.

"Why's that?"

"Your massive arse just smashed Lily's new quill."

"What!" Lily squawked, pushing James and not even glancing at him as he rolled backwards off the desk. She held her quill in the air, inspecting it from all angles.

Hermione immediately helped James up. "Are you alright?" she asked, worried.

James didn't seem to hear her. He was looking over his shoulder and down, a frown working its way onto his face. "I don't have a massive arse. Do I?"

"Your vanity is shocking," Remus muttered, setting his things down on the desk next to Lily and her friends.

"His vanity, his ego, his stubbornness," Lily muttered. "_He _is shocking. How is it that whatever deity in existence out there decided to keep a bigot like you alive?"

"How is it that that deity kept a condescending, haughty, _violent_ woman like you alive?" James countered.

Arnau leaned across the table and said quietly to the others, "I feel that there was a point earned somewhere in there. Who does it go to?"

Elaina tipped her head, considering. "I don't know. Lily got James to fight back instead of swooning over her, but James called her condescending. It's a new one, I think. Either that or rarely used."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Ron asked, the lost look in his eye returning now that he was once again at Hogwarts.

"It's a game Arnie and I play," Elaina explained, ignoring the look of disgust on her friend's face when she used his nickname. "Fee won't. Says it's pointless. But Lily and James go at it so often we _had _to make it interesting for us somehow. What we do is listen to them and give one point away per argument. Whoever comes up with the most creative name, gets the other one the maddest, does something different, they're the one we give the point to. It really all matters on how we're feeling that day."

Hermione nodded, "Uh _huh._ Yeah, that's about the most pointless thing I've ever heard of in my life."

"Ah, reinforcements," Fee muttered. "Good, I was starting to feel lonely."

The people at the table turned their attention back to the fight to discover that it wasn't going on anymore. Lily stood, arms crossed and glaring, and James had retreated to his table to sulk. After a few moments he said, "My arse really _isn't_ that big, right? Come on, Sirius, be honest."

Arnau laughed quietly. "I think point goes to Elaina for making James have Sirius look at his arse."

Elaina grinned. "Fair enough."

* * *

Charms was a fairly uneventful class. As Lily had informed Harry earlier, they were simply reviewing what they had learned the year before. For Harry, Ron, and Hermione, that meant creating Shield Charm after Shield Charm as examples for the class. ("Look at their beautiful structure! Completely solid! Why, they look like they could stand up to a real attack!")

After class ended, Harry declined Lily's offer of walking with her to Potions, insisting that Hermione knew the way, and besides he needed to talk to his 'brother' about something. He then proceeded to pull his 'brother' and brother's girlfriend into a nearby passage.

"You guys saw it, right?" He asked quietly, glancing around them and up the passage to make sure that no one was coming down.

Hermione crossed her arms. "If you're referring to the Horcrux, then yes. We saw it."

Harry shook his head, "That pendant's not a Horcrux yet."

"How do you know?" Ron asked. "We all thought Slytherin's locket was a normal piece of jewelry until you went back in the Pensieve. What if that Fee girl thinks that her necklace is just that- a necklace."

Harry shook his head. "First of all, she knows it's a pendant, so she knows about the warding spells on it. Second, think back. Who's death did Voldemort use to make that Horcrux?"

Ron's brow furrowed in concentration. "That was the one we found at the Riddle House, right? We all thought that it was his father's murder that he used, but it turned out that…Ravenclaw's heir. He used Ravenclaw's last descendent for that Horcrux."

Hermione gasped in understanding. Harry nodded at her, a signal for her to explain it to Ron. "Ravenclaw's granddaughter, she married some man, and they had three sons. And they- they kept the Ravenclaw line alive through the years. But they all died off until only one son had living descendents."

"And?" Ron asked, knowing that the real point behind Hermione's story came next.

"The man that Ravenclaw's granddaughter married- his name was Riley!"

Ron gasped, comprehension dawning. "Fiona Riley. So- so that means that that girl, your mother's _best friend_, Harry, is going to die. Holy…"

The three stood quietly for a moment, the shock setting in. Outside their passage, the muffled sound of a bell could be heard.

"We're late," Hermione murmured.

Harry shrugged, opening the door and stepping out into the Charms corridor. "We're new, remember? And if you make a really nice potion, Hermione, I'm sure Slughorn will forgive us."

* * *

A/N: Sorry if it was confusing. I couldn't think of any other way to write it, even after one of my friends told me she had a hard time following. Anyway, shortly after this chapter things should pick up more, I'll put in more of the Marauders, Lily, and Lily's friends, making sure Harry gets to know them. Oh! Serious question!

FOR YOU PEOPLE WHO DON'T LIKE TO READ AUTHOR'S NOTES, PLEASE, FORGET THAT A MOMENT AND READ THIS! In my original story outline, Ginny was involved. She was involved quite a bit. But, as you can see, I screwed up. I changed something in one of the earlier chapters, and in doing so altered the entire story line, ergo erasing Ginny. I'm sure at least some of you out there know how it is. Now, I'm going to take a poll just because I feel like involving readers a bit. Should I find some way to bring Ginny into this or not? Just drop a yes or no in your review, and we'll see who wins, ok?


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: Ok, so, the results of the poll: an overwhelming yes. I'm incredibly sorry to the few of you who said you couldn't stand Ginny. I hope that you continue to read this and try to live with my Ginny, even if this wasn't the way you wanted things to go. Now that that's said, I hope you approve of the way I brought Ginny in.

Disclaimer: this is the last of these that I'm doing. They get very tiring incredibly fast. So, for the entirety of this story, I own nothing but the plot and the few characters that I have come up with.

Chapter 8

Time was leaning back in his chair, studying the board in front of him with a smug look. There was a new piece on it, one that had existed only on a previous round's board up until a minute ago. It was this piece that caused Time to look so satisfied.

Fate entered the room, brushing his hands off as if he had just gotten back from working. He moved to sit down when his eyes landed on the new piece. He froze. "**What is this?**"

Time grinned, looking far more smug than any powerful being had a right to be. "_That? Oh, that's just my move. I rolled a fourteen, you see- two sevens. That means I get to make any type of play. I chose to imitate you- use my abilities to bring in this move."_

"**But ****_why_****? What is it?"** Fate was looking a little uneasy.

"_A distraction,_" his companion replied with a smile. "_Something to keep your piece from thinking straight._"

Fate had gone from looking uneasy to livid. "**I am gone for no more than fifteen milliseconds. I step out of the room only to do a little business, make sure that whatever star-crossed lovers down there right now drink the poison, and when I come back, you've done ****_this_****!"**

Time shrugged, unaffected by the other's wrath. "_It's a perfectly legal move. I only did the same thing as you."_ He smiled, a little cruelly. "_Besides, I thought I couldn't cheat Fate."_

"**You can't,"** Fate snapped. "**This was meant to happen, you'll see. Somehow this won't work out for you. It will be more of a help than a distraction."**

Time smiled confidently. "_We shall see. Time will tell, after all. It's your move by the way. Let's keep the Game moving."_

* * *

Ginny was not amused. She was tired, she was wet, it was dark, and she was lost. Amused was perhaps the worst word to describe her. Peeved, perhaps. Even irritated. More that anything, though, she was frustrated.

She couldn't remember much from the night before. Harry had sent her a letter about two weeks ago, saying that he, Ron, and Hermione were meeting the Order in Russia. He didn't elaborate- didn't tell her why, what was supposed to happen, or even why he had been missing for so long previously. Just that they were in Russia.

There had been rumors lately that Voldemort was moving east. Ginny was more geographically challenged than most of her traveling brothers, but she certainly knew which direction Russia was from England.

And so she worried. Late into the night and early in the morning she worried. She had been locked up in the Order's newest Italian headquarters, alone except for the brief times one of her of-age friends came to visit, and could find out about Voldemort only during the times she managed to spy on a meeting. She couldn't help; she wasn't allowed to. She had been caught every time she attempted to sneak out and aid the Order. Apparently getting kidnapped by Death Eaters was something Ron was allowed to do (if what her brother had told them was the truth, he had been captured briefly no less than six times), but for it to happen to Ginny was enough to warrant a stay in isolation.

Last night, Ginny had been doing her usual: worrying, praying for liberation, planning ways to help, and worrying some more. She had been at her window, staring out at the streets, empty since Voldemort's attacks had been getting worse. She hadn't planned to sleep; she was too upset to sleep. But sleep she did. And when she woke up, it was not to the sounds of feverish Italian chatting. The grey cracked ceiling was not the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes, and there definitely was not any type of cushion beneath her.

She was in a mountain somewhere. At least, that was what she assumed- in a mountain or very hilly land. There was a steep slope above her, rocks surrounding her, and hills below and beside her. Green lichen clung to the rocks beneath her and a black beetle made its way determinedly across her slippered foot. Tall pines rose above, shading the area until it was so cool it was bordering on cold.

Ginny wrapped her arms around her; she wore only a thin pair of pajama pants and a short-sleeved T-shirt. It was so much colder here than in Italy. Where was here, anyway? _How _did she get here?

Her first thought was that somehow headquarters had been infiltrated while she slept. Death Eaters had come, magically sent her to wherever she now was, and left her to die. But that made no sense. If they had managed to get into the building, the alarms would go off. They were magically constructed to read each person who entered or walked in the building and go off if it was someone not filed in the system. Unless whoever had entered was an Order member spying for Voldemort…

But then why would they leave her alive? Voldemort was ruthless, and his followers were getting more so every day. They would have undoubtedly killed her the moment they saw her. She wasn't dead, so either Voldemort wished to use her for some twisted plan, or it wasn't a Death Eater who sent her here.

If she was part ofVoldemort's plan, then there wasn't much she could do. Just pray and hope for the best, because he certainly... she had her wand. It was tucked in her hip pocket, just like always. Surely Voldemort would have ordered that her wand be removed! So if she still had it, did that mean that it _wasn't_ Voldemort or anyone involved with him who sent her here? Who else? _Why?_

The sun was setting. Ginny vaguely thought that it was sure to get much colder once the sun was down. It did no good sitting in the same place she was dumped in, wondering who had brought her here and if he was going to return. She sighed, deciding that if anybody wanted to come back for her, they were going to have to hunt her down. She spun around a few times, and when she stopped, headed off in the direction she was facing.

Slippers were not the best thing to wear when crawling down rocks. Especially slippers that had no back to them. Ginny's were constantly slipping off, or when they actually managed to stay on, betraying her with there lack of traction. She fell down several times, scratches and bruises accumulating with each tumble. The last time she fell, she slid twenty yards and landed in a shallow river.

Now she was freezing and wet. Slowly she dragged herself out of the slow moving water. She stood up at the edge, only to slip on a wet rock and fall down once more, landing painfully on her back. Ginny didn't bother standing up again. She simply closed her eyes and screamed as many swear words as she could remember at the sky (living with Fred and George had given her an extremely vivid array or swears that took quite a while to get through).

She stood up once more, the threat of tears building up behind her eyes. Ginny slammed her eyelids shut angrily. She _would not_ cry. There was no way she would give whoever stole her away the satisfaction of causing her tears. She was wet, cold, and aching, but she was strong. She would find some way out of these accursed trees, she would hunt down whoever trapped her here and curse the hell out of him, and by God she would do it all without shedding a single tear.

Feeling stronger than she had since she woke up, Ginny began walking once more. She picked her way around more carefully, cautious of her mutinying slippers. She slipped two or three times more before she reached the edge of whatever forest she was in. The trees ended, and in front of her…nothing.

Ginny let out a yell of frustration. She had been half expecting a town, or a farmhouse, or even an abandoned cabin. Not this _nothing._ She sank to the ground, head in hands, trying to decide if she wanted to continue on or head back into the forest where she could get a little bit of shelter for the night.

She was about to turn around and head into the trees when something at the edge of her vision caught her attention. Was that- did she just see a light? Ginny squinted, trying to figure out if she was seeing what she though she was. Yes…yes, it had to be. There was no doubt about it; she was seeing firelight behind an open window.

She immediately began running in that direction. It was only when she was right in front of the house that she thought about the possibility of a trap. Whoever had brought her here could be just behind that wall, waiting for her to tap on the door expecting shelter. She could be killed the second the door opened. Or it really could be some normal person's house that she was lucky enough to find.

Ginny shook her head. Harry got lucky. Ron and Hermione got lucky. Not Ginny. Ginny got diaries with the soul of the world's most evil wizard inside. No, luck was not something Ginny possessed. So she used caution instead. She crept around the side of the house, eyes scanning the ground for the telltale signs of magical booby traps. There was nothing that she could see. The window was open, so Ginny walked over to it as quietly as she could manage and shot a look inside.

There was the fireplace that the light was coming off of. A dark red couch was in front of it and an armchair the same color beside it. A mahogany coffee table sat in the center, and there was a grandfather clock against one wall. There were several portraits hanging on the wall that-

"I'm warnin' you, stop creepin' around my house or I'll hex you so hard your grandparents will feel it." The voice was deep and more than a little intimidating.

Ginny's jaw dropped in shock. A wizard's house? Of all the houses in the world, she had stumbled out of a forest only to come immediately across a _wizard's_ house!

"Well?" the voice called. "Step over here so I can see who I'm about to curse."

Ginny thought over her options grimly. She could run. Find another direction and keep on running until she found someone more pleasant. Of course, the man in the doorway might decide to make good of his threat if she tried that. She could do as he said and explain what had happened to her. But what were the chances that she magically woke up in a different place, chose a direction randomly, found a house, and when she approached that house realized that it was a wizard living inside? Not good, she decided. That person was probably the one who had brought her here. But he was stepping toward her now, and his footsteps sounded menacing. He could just be some wizard living on the outskirts of a forest defending his home from a prowler. Either way, he was close enough now that she couldn't escape. Sighing deeply, she turned around.

The man facing her was relatively short. She couldn't make out his features in the weak light of outside, but his face was thin and his hair was sticking up everywhere. He didn't look very intimidating, Ginny acknowledged. But he was brandishing a wand, and that made anyone dangerous.

Slowly, she reached for her pocket and pulled out her wand.

"What're you doin'?" the man barked.

"Look, I'm just setting my wand down, see?" Indeed, that was what she was doing. She was crouched now, her wand placed uselessly on the ground before her. "I'm not trying to hurt you or anything, sir; I'm just lost and was a bit cautious of your house. That's all. That's why I was sneaking around." She had decided to act this way in an attempt to decide if this man was her captor or not. If he was, he would surely take advantage or her wandless position.

The man, however, only grunted. "Lost, huh? Come on inside, then. I'll see what I can do to help you out."

Ginny let out a sigh of relief, grabbed her wand, and followed the man inside. Amazement was flowing over her. She, Ginny Weasley, had just gotten lucky. It was a good feeling. It made her feel slightly invincible. No wonder Harry was constantly charging off on daring adventures. His luck was ten times better than hers, and if she was feeling this way off of one lucky happening, she couldn't imagine how Harry felt. Empowered, she supposed. But her mind was drifting, and she couldn't let that happen. Who knew when her luck would die?

In the house now, and in much better light, she could see the man clearly. His hair was white and thinning, his eyes pale blue over incredibly thin, white eyebrows. His cheekbones were high, his nose was long, and his mouth was thin. Everything about him was thin, in truth. He looked as if he could be snapped in half. It was a sharp contrast to his deep voice and threatening words.

"All right, then," he said gruffly. "Who are ya, what happened, and what do you need?"

Should she lie? She had learned how to lie very well over the past sixteen years of life. It was a necessity when living with six brothers. But something in her stopped her this time. Don't lie; just don't tell the whole truth. "I'm Ginny," she told him. "I have no idea what happened. One minute I was asleep in Italy, and the next somewhere in those trees. I picked a direction, started walking, and here I am." She shrugged.

"Italy?" The man's eyebrows rose in shock. "You're a long way from home, girl!"

Ginny sighed. She had suspected as much. "Would you mind telling me where I am?"

"Scotland."

It was Ginny's turn to look shocked. Scotland? How could she have possibly traveled so far? _Where _in Scotland was she? Could she possibly travel back home to the Burrow?

The man interrupted her thoughts, "Would you like some clothes?"

"What?" Ginny looked at him. He was small for a man, but his clothes couldn't possibly fit her.

"My daughter left some clothes behind when she moved out," he explained. "She looked to be about your size, and I don't think she'd care much if I gave away some of her clothes to someone lost and wet."

Dry clothes. The thought sounded wonderful, so she accepted the man's offer. He led her to his daughter's old room and told her to take whatever she liked. After finding a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a robe that almost fit her (whoever his daughter was had longer legs and broader shoulders than Ginny) she joined the man back out in the living room.

He nodded approval when he saw that the clothes mostly fit. "You can stay here the night if you want," he said. "Otherwise there's a place in town. It's called the Three Broomsticks. It's mostly a bar for the locals, but the woman who owns it, Rosmerta, she rents out some rooms on the upper levels."

Ginny's jaw nearly hit the floor. "P-pardon?" She couldn't have heard correctly. The Three Broomsticks was gone. Rosmerta joined the Order two months ago and had been sent immediately to France. Was the man insane? Perhaps he was living in the past.

"It's an inn," he explained, thinking she had misunderstood him. "Just go out the back door, head straight until you hit the road, and then turn left. You'll be into town within twenty minutes. Hogsmeade. That's the name of the town; you're a witch, you must've heard of it."

Ginny nodded dumbly. The man had to be insane. If he thought Hogsmeade was still accepting strays, he had to have lost his mind. Still, she had something inside her begging to go there, to walk the streets one more time. Even if they were deserted, she wanted to see them again.

"Thank you," she said hastily, walking toward the door. She wanted to get out and get to Hogsmeade before this crazy man started talking about his daughter attending Hogwarts. "I think I'll go to that place. Um, thank you so much for the clothes, I'll return them if I ever get the chance, good-bye!" She ran out his door and started in the direction of the road.

In fifteen minutes she was there, but what she was seeing had to be a hallucination. Buildings were lit, people were strolling, chatter and laughter filled the air. Ginny shook her head. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. Hogsmeade was dark. The few who had decided to remain living there were in their houses, doors locked by sundown. No exceptions. That's how life was now. This wasn't Hogsmeade. It couldn't be. Unless… what exactly had she missed when she was locked away in Italy? Could they possibly be rebuilding? Is that what this was? Hogsmeade spitting in the face of Voldemort?

Maybe…had they done anything to Hogwarts? She was suddenly filled with the desire to see if they had started to fix Hogwarts, the place where she grew up. She turned and ran, still in her slippers, up the still familiar path to the castle, dreading and anticipating what she might find.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The rest of Harry's first day at Hogwarts passed incredibly slowly. Potions was a nightmare. They entered class late, and so they were partnered at Slughorn's mercy. Ron was with Hermione (Harry thought he saw him saying a brief prayer of thanks when this occurred) and Harry was with Snape. His friends sent him looks of sympathy before pulling out their potions supplies and beginning on the assignment on the board.

Snape barely glanced up when Harry sat down beside him. He was rifling through his supply kit and didn't even look at Harry as he said, "Potions is my subject, you understand? Nothing or no_ one _messes this up for me. So unless you're the Mozart of Potions, you shut up and do what I say, got it?"

Harry hated Snape. He more than hated him- he loathed him with a passion. But he had been three steps away from worshipping the Half Blood Prince in sixth year, so he had to grudgingly admit that Snape was amazing when it came to potions. As long as Harry followed his orders, he'd pass the class, or at least this potion. So instead of snapping at Snape as he longed to do, he simply nodded mutely.

Snape hadn't looked over at Harry, so chances were good that he hadn't seen the nod. He must have expected nothing less, though, for he immediately handed Harry a knife. "Start cutting the sopophorous beans."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Clearly Snape hadn't discovered all the tricks Harry had found in his Potions book yet. "Do we need the most juice possible?"

"Yes," Snape snapped, glaring sidelong at Harry.

"Well, then," Harry replied, feeling immensely superior. "I'll need your silver knife."

"_Why?"_ once more, Snape was snapping at Harry.

Harry didn't wait for the knife to be handed to him; he simply reached over and grabbed it. Temporary theft. It was only a little bit of payback for the years of being tortured by Snape. He began crushing the bean with the flat side of the knife (it was the only trick from Snape's potion book that he could remember off the top of his head). "Crush the bean with the flat side of a silver knife. It gives out more juices than just cutting."

Snape watched in interest, but said nothing. Later, when he thought that Harry wasn't watching, he made a note inside his book.

Lunch was the bright spot in Harry's day. He had chosen to sit with Lily and her friends, partly because there were no open seats beside the Marauders, and partly because he knew so much less about his mother than his father. Elaina was off gossiping with a group of Hufflepuffs, so it was really only Harry, Lily, and Arnau.

About halfway through the meal, Elaina had returned and was busy telling them about the third year Slytherin she had run into earlier. "So he's talking to me, right? And he _must_ have been smoking his Potions stash or _something_ because he just keeps talking about the purple mice that have invaded the school and how they're the generals of all these legions of scale-less iguanas determined to rid the world of magic. I turn around, start to walk away, when he calls to me. Says, 'Wait! I haven't shown you my rendition of _Footloose_!' So I turned around, mainly to ask him if he really knew what _Footloose_ was, you know, make sure he doesn't think Kevin Bacon is what Sirius calls his breakfast, and he's floating twelve feet in the air, ballet dancing! _Then…_" her voice trailed off and her eyes were locked on the front of the Great Hall.

The food at the teacher's table began to rise. Little pieces of bread fell away from the turkey sandwich until it resembled a man. It then bowed to a dish of mustard, the mustard lifted out of the dish, and the two began to dance around each other. A few slices of cucumbers joined in, followed by a piece of ham, and soon all the food was in a line, dancing behind a man-shaped sandwich with fruit salad on its head. After nearly a full circle around the table, it all separated and began to dance individually.

Dumbledore was perhaps the most amused person at that table. He watched the food before him, his blue eyes shining more than usual and his grin much larger. Slughorn was bowing in return to a slice of pizza hovering below his nose, a teacher Harry hadn't met yet was swaying her head in time to the music she was humming, and McGonagall was watching the Marauders warily.

James and Sirius noticed her gaze. They grinned at her cheerfully, waving to show her their wandless hands.

And then the food went mad. The mustard threw itself at McGonagall's face, the cucumbers began embedding themselves in Dumbledore's beard, the mayonnaise was painting Slughorn's hair white, and all the various sandwiches in the air hurled themselves at random tables in the Great Hall, managing to completely avoid all of the Gryffindors.

Laughter erupted. McGonagall stood up, slowly and deliberately wiping her face off with a cloth napkin. "Potter? Black?" her voice was icy calm.

"Yes?" the two chorused, looking expectantly toward their teacher.

"You know the time, and you know the place. Be there- for the next week!" she calmly sat down, picked a now inanimate sandwich up, and bit off its head.

Down the table, Harry could see James and Sirius grinning and shooting glances at McGonagall. Her sandwich exploded in her hands, tiny bits of bread, meat, and cheese flying toward her face. "Two weeks!" she called, almost in a sing-song voice, not glancing up but rather popping one of the larger pieces of meat into her mouth.

Beside Harry, Lily was shaking her head. "Immature," she muttered, lifting up her goblet to hide her tiny smile.

After lunch, Harry had a free period, so he went out for a walk around the lake,

G.

The path from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts was embedded in Ginny's memory. Her feet took her along it on their own accord, since her brain wasn't doing much to help out. She couldn't stop thinking about what she had seen at Hogsmeade. There were lights, and laughter. There had been people and they hadn't looked scared! They had seemed so careless, so happy! It had all been like it was before Voldemort, and the war, and the terror. It was so _beautiful_.

Yet it made her furious. Why hadn't anybody bothered telling her what was going on? What? Did they think that she wouldn't care if one of the most important places from her school career were to be fixed? Had they thought that she wouldn't want to hear what was going on outside that little house in Italy? Or had they simply forgotten? That was more than likely. So many people busy with their fight against Voldemort, they had simply decided they couldn't bother keeping that little refugee living upstairs in the loop.

Ginny continued to stomp up the path, her anger filling her. This was her _home_! She had _every_ right to be informed that it was recovering from Voldemort's rampage! She had more of a right to know what was going on than those sheltered idiots running around in Italy! But they hadn't told her. They _hadn't- effing- told her!_ When she saw any of them again, she was going to curse them so hard they won't know an owl from a bowling pin! She was going to-

She stopped dead, her thoughts and her movement jerked to a halt by her shock. She had come to the top of the hill that obscured Hogwarts from view, and now… Hogwarts stood, as majestic and breathtaking as it had been on her first day there. The Astronomy Tower soared against the brightening horizon; the top floor was exquisite, untouched; and the Quidditch stands stood vibrantly around the deep green pitch. This wasn't right. This was perfect, and in this day and age, perfect was never there.

Hogwarts…it shouldn't be like this. It wasn't _possible_! She had _been_ there, damn it! She had heard the Astronomy Tower fall as her brother pushed her into the fireplace, sending her far away from the attack. She had eavesdropped on the report made to the Order after the attack had ended and the injured tended to. What she was seeing now was…an illusion. It was the result of wandering aimlessly in dark forest without food or water. Not real. Just her mind playing tricks.

But she had accepted that Hogsmeade was truly as she saw it, a small part of her brain informed her. That was different, though! The rebuttal to the first statement made by her brain was instantaneous. What she saw at Hogsmeade- it could have happened! If the people got the will enough, they could have recovered and gone about their lives. Hogwarts… its time had ended. McGonagall had said so herself just days before the Death Eaters got her too.

What was she seeing, though? It was there in front of her, as plain as day. The Hogwarts from her memory. That was it! Ginny grabbed at the explanation eagerly. She was trapped in her mind! Perhaps she was dreaming. Yes, that had to be right. She was still asleep in Italy, trapped in the memories of her life at Hogwarts, of life when it was good. She would wake up and everything would be as it was- a destroyed Hogwarts, a dark Hogsmeade, and a terrified world. Hardly comforting, but that was life.

And then the tears came. Could you cry in a dream? Ginny didn't care to think about it. She was crying so hard that it was borderline sobbing. The tears came from loss. She had lost everything in this war- her school, her home, her family (all of whom were still alive, yet never with her), her _life_. And here was this _dream_, reminding her painfully of everything that had been carried away on the tides of war. What right did her mind have? How _dare_ it send her to such a place while she was sleeping, unable to fight it off? Why would her own mind do something that would hurt her so much?

_It's just a stupid dream_, she thought furiously, swiping the tears away from her eyes. Why was she crying in a dream? And _why_ did her dream decide to drop her off in a forest first, instead of just starting here at Hogwarts?

Ginny shook her head. Such thoughts were ludicrous and irrelevant. And besides, she knew why she was crying; when she had gone to Hogwarts, life had been good (there had been the incident in first year, but other than that she had been happy). She had had friends, and fun, and yes, she did worry a little about Voldemort and what she knew happened to Harry, but it had been fleeting worry. Then the war had started, and everything good in her life was ripped away from her. And if that wasn't bad enough, she wasn't even allowed to help! So she cried because of what Hogwarts represented- the time in her life when happiness was second nature, before she had had her childhood ripped away from her. She cried because she wanted it back, but knew it could never be.

Stupid, _stupid_ dream! She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears. She wasn't going to let herself keep crying. She was Ginny Weasley. She was strong. She didn't cry when she was left all alone in the midst of a war, she didn't cry when she stayed up late at night worrying about everyone she loved, she didn't cry when she thought she had been kidnapped and left to die in a forest, and she _would not_ cry now that she realized it was a dream. Her dream had thrown one hell of a curve ball at her tonight, but that was no reason to lose her strength. She wasn't allowed to fight, that strength was all she had. She wouldn't let herself lose it. Not now.

Ginny shook her head and began to walk down the hill toward Hogwarts. She wasn't going to let herself cry, so she might as well do something to distract her until she woke up. Besides, she would love to walk the halls of Hogwarts once more, if only in a dream.

She decided to take the path that would wind around the lake shore rather than the more direct one. She had always loved the lake, had gone out there and sat beneath a tree when she needed time away from people to study. It was beautiful and calming. Her eyes scanned over it now, the surface rippling in the light breeze. There was the rock she had swum out to on a dare the one time, and there- that was where she had watched the second task in the Triwizard Tournament from. There was the giant squid, coming up like it usually did on calm days like this. A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. Had she been happier at Hogwarts than at the Burrow? Probably.

She stopped suddenly. Somebody had just come out the main doors of Hogwarts. There was someone else in her dream? She briefly wondered who her mind had decided to add, then figured she might as well simply wait and see. They would come to her, right? It was her dream, so the people in it should naturally be pulled to her.

Sitting down on a large, flat boulder beside the lake, she decided to wait and find out if that was right. She was obviously incredibly conscious during this dream, if that was at all possible. Maybe some type of lucid dream potion had been slipped into her milk at dinner. Whatever the reason, it might be entertaining to find out just how people in dreams worked while she was capable.

So she waited. The person didn't seem to be coming toward her immediately. Instead, he wandered around almost aimlessly, meandering along the shore and winding through the foliage of the forest. This could take a while, Ginny thought as she lay back against the rock. No matter. She certainly wasn't going to chase after people in her own dream.

H. G.

The lake had looked so inviting when Harry stepped out of the school and had opted for a walk around it. That had always been a great way to clear his head, he remembered. Take a nice stroll around the lake where there was no one to gawk or snap at him. It was usually relatively empty too. Or at least, it had been in his time.

When he had walked perhaps five minutes, he noticed a figure laying on his favorite lakeside rock. A redhead, or so it seemed. Lily? No, that was impossible. She was still probably eating lunch and complaining about James. What other redheads did Hogwarts have? Why did he care? And _why_ was he walking toward this person?

Harry shrugged. Oh well. For whatever reason, he had altered his path so that he would run directly across the person, so why fight it? What would it hurt to meet another person?

He walked another five minutes before getting close enough to the figure to distinguish anything other than the fact that the person was a girl with red hair. As he got closer, though, something in him kept telling him that she looked familiar. She actually looked like… no, that was impossible. Ginny was safe in an Order headquarter. She had better be. If she wasn't, Harry would skin her alive. He caught what he was thinking and chuckled lightly. Ginny wasn't even born yet. She was in no danger. So who was this person who reminded him of her?

His pace increased. He was eager to see who it was. Finally, he was close enough to see her face clearly. He nearly fainted from the shock. He wasn't- she couldn't be- certainly not. "G-_Ginny_!" his voice was incredulous.

Ginny's eyes snapped open. She knew that voice. She turned eagerly to see him, only to be greeted by the sight of some blond, freckle-faced nobody she had never seen in her life. What was _this?_ Why would her mind send her someone she had never met who sounded like Harry? What was the point in that? She had never been so disappointed in her life. "Who the hell are you?" she snapped.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Harry's jaw dropped, his eyebrows raised, and his heart was squashed in one moment. All from one single sentence. Ginny didn't know who he was? How was that possible? She was his Ginny; she _had_ to know who he was! He wanted to yell at her, demand that she recognize him immediately, but all he managed to do was sputter, "W- what do you mean? You don't recognize me?"

Ginny glared at him. First, somebody she doesn't know shows up in her dream, then he demands that she recognize him! How dare he? Didn't he realize he was a figment of _her _imagination? "I've never seen you before in my life," she snapped.

Harry's face fell. He couldn't believe it. "But- I'm…oh, wait. I'm blond, aren't I?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. Was a little part of her mind this annoying? Was this why somebody like this person was in her dreams? "D'you mean blond physically or mentally? Because quite honestly I'm inclined to believe it's both."

Harry threw back his head and laughed. It all made sense now. Ginny didn't acknowledge that it was him because she couldn't. She hadn't been able to see past the bond hair, freckles, and disillusioned glasses. He was incredibly relieved. For a moment he had thought she truly was ignoring ever meeting him. His laughter died and he refocused his attention on her. "No, I didn't mean mentally. Just physically. She changed my hair, you see, so they couldn't recognize me. Well, not _me_, exactly, but my father. You know how I look like him," he was rambling, but he didn't care. It was the first time he had seen Ginny in months, and he personally thought that he was keeping his composure quite well. "I'd have to find Hermione to take the hair color off, she's the only one who knows what spell it was, but-"

"_Harry?_," Ginny's incredulous voice cut him off. Her dream Harry was blond because Hermione was trying to keep him unidentified? What? "Well, this makes no sense," she muttered dryly.

"You're right," Harry agreed, nodding. "How did you get here?"

Standing up, hands on her hips in the traditional annoyed Weasley woman fashion, she replied, "How did _I _get here? Where do you get off thinking you can ask me that? You're in my mind, buddy. I ask the questions. You don't ask how I got here, because you are me…or at least some subconscious conflict in my mind that I haven't recognized yet, or whatever those dream analyst quacks say. So bottom line is you don't get to interrogate, okay? Good."

Harry, or the blond person masquerading as Harry, was looking at her like she had just swallowed a dungbomb. "What are you _talking _about?"

Ginny threw her hands into the air. "Again with the questioning! I just can't shut you up can I?"

"Did you say you were dreaming?" Harry asked, still giving her an odd look.

"Well of course I am," Ginny laughed. "How else would I explain all this?" She waved her arm, motioning to everything around her.

Harry frowned, "You're not dreaming, Gin."

"Then why is everything _like_ this? And why are you blond? It doesn't suit you at all."

"I _told_ you," Harry replied, sounding exasperated, "So they couldn't recognize me."

"_Who _couldn't recognize you?" Ginny practically yelled, "What the hell is going on here, Harry? Because if this isn't a dream, then somebody has more explaining to do than Brutus the Bumbling after he sank Atlantis! If this isn't a dream, then why is Hogsmeade there, and why is Hogwarts fixed, and why the _hell_ didn't anyone tell me!"

"Because we're in the 1970's!" The level of Harry's voice matched Ginny's almost perfectly. When Ginny didn't reply to what Harry had said, when she just stood there, jaw dropped, Harry continued more calmly. "Now, can you please tell me how and when you got here?"

Ginny didn't make a move to reply for a few seconds. Finally, her voice sounding strained, she said, "The- the _70's_? What do you mean? _How…_?"

Harry shook his head, "I don't know how. I was hoping you could remember something from before you got here. Hermione reckons she heard a voice, but all me and Ron remember is blue light."

Ginny was shaking her head now, "No- I'm sorry, I don't- I don't remember anything. I was just sitting in that Merlin accursed room in Italy and I woke up in the woods outside Hogsmeade. We're really in the past?" her voice was incredulous.

"Either that or this is a very elaborate plan of Voldemort's," Harry replied dryly. "involving trapping us somewhere with my teenage parents running around."

"_What?"_

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I was shocked too. Apparently we arrived during my parent's seventh year. Mum's been escorting us to all our classes and shoving piles of notes under our noses. She and Hermione are getting along famously, of course."

Ginny sat down hard on the rock. "Can you- _please_, just start from the beginning?"

"Well, I wrote to you that we were heading to Russia, right?" Harry asked, sitting down beside her. When Ginny nodded, he continued, "The entire Order was meeting us up there. It was supposed to give the Order enough time to develop a plan to get to Voldemort, and Hermione time to figure out how to kill Nagini so I could kill Voldemort without any of his Horcruxes getting in the way. We didn't have time," he quickly told all that he remembered of that night in Russia to Ginny, who had closed her eyes and was resting her head on her knees, her hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking.

"And then we were here," Harry concluded, "Hermione figured out that we were in the past, of course, and since Dumbledore couldn't tell us how we were going to get back, we've been going to class with the rest of the school. Hermione was thrilled. She loves the idea of getting to finish school, even if it is in the past."

Ginny gazed at him quietly, her eyes haunted, "So it's all over then? Tom's won?" Ginny had given up calling Voldemort You-Know-Who a little ways into the war, but she was still terrified of saying the name, so she settled on calling him what she had actually known him by in her first year.

"I don't think so," Harry replied, "The voice Hermione says she heard apparently mentioned a second chance. 'Mione thinks that if we give her a little time, she can find out how to change things so that the future is better. She hasn't told us anything definite of course- we've only really been here a day- but she'll figure it out. She always does."

Ginny nodded her head mutely. "But- how am I back here? I wasn't with you then, and I don't remember a blue light or anything. Just sleeping."

Harry shrugged, "We don't even know how _we're_ here, Gin, and we had that voice talking to us, or so Hermione says. Dumbledore seems to think we shouldn't worry about it, we're here and that's the end of it. I kind of agree. Who cares? I'm here, and I get to know my parents."

"Well then…what are they like?"

Harry laughed loudly, "You're taking this better than I thought you would. I assumed you would argue it, or refuse to believe it, or something."

"No," Ginny replied quietly, her gaze shifting to the lake, "I mean, I am just barely accepting it, but I think I'm too shocked to argue. Give me a moment to let it all sink in and I'll be in denial like you wouldn't believe."

Harry smiled. Lord, how he had missed Ginny. Ron and Hermione were fine, but Ginny had the personality that Harry found himself wishing was a part of their group every day. She was the one he thought about before drifting off to sleep at night, wondering if she was okay, wishing to speak with her.

Ginny tilted her head to the side, listening intently, "Somebody's calling for you," she said quietly.

Turning his head, Harry spotted five people trekking toward them. "How long have I been out here?" Harry murmured toward himself.

Ginny shrugged, squinting at the people, "Who are they?"

It was Harry's turn to shrug now, "Hermione and Ron for sure, but I don't know about the other three. The tall one could be Arnau, I guess, though I don't know why he'd be coming to find me."

"Who?"

Harry shook his head, signaling that the question wasn't important, "Just one of Lily's friends."

One of the figures had pointed toward Harry and they all hurried over. "Lily sent me out here," the tall one- now definitely identified as Arnau, called out as before he had reached them, "She was worried you wouldn't make it to History of Magic on time, and of course she couldn't be late herself so she sent me to come and find you and bring you to the class, and of course James and Sirius heard and decided they wanted an excuse to be late too… hello," he said, gazing confusedly at Ginny, "Who are you?"

"_Ginny?_" Ron breathed in shock- he and the others had just arrived at the rock. "What-"

Harry shot a terrified look at Ginny. What were they going to do now? How was he going to explain yet another unknown teenager?

Thankfully, he didn't have to. Ginny, ever the quick thinker, threw herself on the amazed looking Hermione. "'Mione!" she called out, loud enough for their onlookers to hear. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you! I know, I know- it's only been a few days. But you're my sister. If I'm not allowed to miss you, then who can I miss?" She lowered her voice and whispered so that only Hermione could hear, "Harry's explained it all to me. Just go with the story, okay?"

Hermione needed no further urging and hugged her 'sister' in return, "I missed you too, Gin. Was your trip over here alright?"

Ginny stepped away from Hermione and rolled her eyes, "I think I swallowed a mouthful of ash. I can't _stand_ Floo powder. Next time, I ride a broomstick."

Hermione laughed. "All the way from Australia? On a broomstick?"

Ginny nodded her head stubbornly. "Yes. Who are they?" she tilted her chin toward Arnau, James, and Sirius."

"Introductions! Of course! Well, that's Arnau Blackman, Sirius Black, and James Potter," Ginny nodded to each of them in turn. She had of course recognized James and Sirius easily, but knew she was never supposed to have seen them before. "Guys, this is my sister, Ginny Johnson."

James tilted his head and Sirius gave her his trademark dashing grin, "You never mentioned a sister," he said, stepping toward Ginny and extending his hand.

"I've only known you for a day," Hermione laughed, "Did you expect to know all about me?"

"I'd like to," Sirius said, raising his eyebrow suggestively.

Hermione laughed again, "You don't take refusal well, do you?" Sirius shook his head and Hermione continued, "Then I suggest you don't try anything on my sister. She'll shoot you down in a matter of seconds."

"Oh?" Sirius asked as he shook Ginny's hand, "Anyone special back home?"

Ginny nodded and released his hand, "Yeah, yeah there is. And the second he realizes he's being a fool, he's mine."

Harry scowled at her. He didn't like being called fool- it was right up there with being called insane.

"So, if she's your sister, why didn't she come with the rest of you?" James asked.

Hermione and Ginny glanced at each other, both obviously ready with a story and silently asking the other who should tell it. Hermione nodded to Ginny, giving her permission to make up her own reason why she hadn't been there earlier.

Ginny slipped back into her acting mode immediately, heaving an annoyed sigh, "The idiot headmistress at our old school completely fouled up my records. It took two days to get it all back to normal, and of course Harry and Ron's mum wouldn't let me come over until we had it all settled. She told me just to Floo to Hogsmeade when I had gotten everything sorted out and make my way over here. She has my trunk of course. I'm going to have to owl her and tell her she can send it all over here."

James was still looking at her skeptically. "Wasn't Ginny the one he was yelling about being dead?" he jerked his chin toward Harry.

Ginny glance over at Harry, who was suddenly extremely interested in his shoes. "I- uh-" he cleared his throat, "I had a nightmare last night. Of when you…" his voice trailed off.

"I'm alive, Harry," she murmured, immediately understanding and resting her hand sympathetically on his arm, "See? Perfectly fine."

"You almost weren't," he whispered, eyes never leaving his shoes.

Sirius looked confused now too, "But, didn't you say something about going into hiding?"

"It's a long story," Ron said quickly, having gotten over his shock of seeing his baby sister in the past. "C'mon, Gin, we should go talk to Dumbledore, tell him you're here."

They began to walk once more toward Dumbledore's office, leaving the three boys standing around, looking slightly confused, as the bell signaling the beginning of class rang out.

"Think they know the way?" Sirius asked quietly, watching them open the doors.

Arnau shrugged and began to follow the four new students inside. He needed to tell the girls about the newest arrival.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Harry didn't know how to feel about Ginny being in the past with him. When he had first realized that it was she down at the lake, he had been elated- it had been months since he had last seen her, or even spoken to her. But then his personality kicked in with a vengeance. He couldn't help thinking that she should _not_ be here. She should be tucked away, safe in Italy, waiting for him to write and say that life was fine, he was coming for her.

But he knew that he would never write that. From the last moments he remembered in his time, he knew that the Order, and the rest of the world for that matter, was doomed. He knew that he could never go back to Ginny. He knew this, and he should be glad that she was back in the past where he _could_ be with her. But years of being overprotective and watching those he loved die had left an immense impact. Instead of being happy, he looked at her and thought of all the ways he could lose her in the past. She should not be there.

There was no telling Ginny that. She had, if it was possible, grown more stubborn and headstrong during her time in Italy. Any time he even considered bringing up the topic, she would glare at him and the thought would flee his mind. And then there was the question of, even if she shouldn't be here, how on earth would he get her back? They didn't know how to get themselves back (not that any of them particularly wanted to go), so the idea of getting Ginny out of there, no matter how much Ron and Harry wished it, was impossible.

It had been nearly two weeks since she had showed up, and Harry hadn't had a peaceful moment in that time. He would constantly find himself going out of his way so that his path would cross Ginny's, and he could see that she was safe, that no evil wizard had attempted to kidnap and hurt her. This behavior had, unfortunately, attracted the attention of Sirius, who in turn took it to mean that Harry was pining for her, and gave him no peace on the matter.

The only positive aspect of the entire situation was that the school seemed to have readily accepted the fact that Ginny was Hermione's sister. Of course, they weren't living in a time where evil was rampant and everyone looked over their shoulder, searching for yet dreading a floating green skull, so distrust was wired into their system. The only hitch in their story was the famous Weasley hair, but since Sirius, James, and Arnau had already seen Ginny, they couldn't change it. They simply had to nervously put up with the joking comments of how Ginny looked more like Ron's sister than Hermione's, and was he sure that their biological parents weren't the same?

Currently, Harry was alone at the Gryffindor table, staring moodily into his cold oatmeal and wishing that the redhead had never come. He should still be sleeping at the ungodly hour of five a.m., but Wormtail was an early riser and Harry a light sleeper. So he sat at the table, cursing the rat to high heaven and worrying about Ginny (the two subjects only connected by the fuzzy functioning of a brain at an hour when the sun was not yet up).

Ginny and Lily were early risers too. Harry had never known, since he generally slept in as late as possible. He learned about that particular aspect of their characters, though, when they wandered loudly into the Great Hall and disturbed his peace.

"- and like I said, the man has _got _to be at least forty years old, but the way he was going on he'd have to believe he was twenty! So he reaches over, grabs my _arse_-,"

This was the point when Harry's neck snapped around so fast he got whiplash. Who had dared to grab _his_ Ginny's arse? More importantly, could he be hunted down and killed?

Ginny grinned wryly over at Harry as she and Lily sat down, "Thought that'd get your attention," she turned her attention back to Lily, "So he grabs me, right, and I don't know _what_ to do, it's not like I've been grabbed by a middle aged man before."

"So did you do anything?" Lily asked through a mouthful of toast.

"Hexed him 'til his eyes bled," Ginny replied smugly, buttering her own toast. She looked sidelong at Harry, "That make you feel any better?"

Harry stiffened slightly and kept his eyes trained on the opposite wall. Yes, actually, it did make him feel incredibly better. He still wanted to murder the man in his sleep, but knowing he had received some type of punishment made him feel a little warm and fuzzy on the inside. But he wasn't going to let Ginny know that. Emotionally detached façades were all the rage when it came to Harry Potter, and some incredibly stubborn part of his mind held firmly that to show Ginny that he cared would put her in a world of trouble. So, instead of telling her that it would have made him feel better to hex the man so hard his grandchildren felt it, he said stiffly, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ginny snorted, "And Phlegm will dye her hair fuchsia and travel the world following rock bands with Tonks."

Harry chose not to reply.

"So," Lily asked, pointing her knife at the two people across from her, "Are you two…" her voice trailed off.

"No," Harry said sharply, "We're not. We're not anything."

Ginny slammed her silverware onto her plate with a resounding clang. Slowly, silently, she stood up and turned to face Harry. She stared at him for a brief moment, before turning and walking quickly out of the Great Hall.

"She looked upset for somebody who isn't anything," Lily told Harry quietly.

"We're not anything," Harry repeated, trying to sound confident in his statement as he watched the door close slowly. "Nothing…"

Stupid, selfish, arrogant, stubborn, bastard son of a one-eyed thestral and a wheel of rotting cheese! Ginny didn't know where she was going. All she knew was that the list of words she could find to describe Harry Potter was growing longer and more imaginative by the second.

She'd never let him know how much he could hurt her. Right now, she could feel her heart be ripped out and stomped on as if Harry were standing in front of her doing it before her very eyes.

Ginny turned onto a staircase that was just detaching and rode on the top of it just to find out where it would lead. The entire time, his words resounded in her ears. '_We're not anything'_.

Who did he think he was? He _knew_ they were something. He may not know _what_ they were, or he might not accept it, but damn it he knew! How could he say something like that? Why didn't it hurt him as much as it hurt her? Had his time spent chasing after Voldemort changed how he felt? No, she wouldn't accept that. She did not wait for him the majority of her life only to have him change his feelings now. He can't have changed. Please, say he still cared.

Harry was the only thing that could make her feel this vulnerable, and right now she hated him for it. She had met no one else who could make her long for their acceptance, no one else who she'd be willing to wait for. Only Harry.

And that _bastard_ had blatantly refused their relationship!

Why? Why couldn't she talk herself out of caring so much? If she didn't care, it wouldn't hurt. Michael hadn't hurt, and Dean certainly hadn't broken her heart, but three words from Harry and she was behaving like one of those manicured sops with subscriptions to Witch Weekly! _Why couldn't she forget about him?_

She suddenly lost all interest in her fury-driven march through the castle. She sat down with a sigh on the steps just as the staircase connected itself to an empty landing on the sixth floor. Ginny crossed her arms over her knees and lowered her forehead onto them. Desolation welled up inside her. She'd probably skip the first few classes of the day…

But he had to still care! He had taken the time to write her while he was traveling, hadn't he? He had been in the middle of the war, free time couldn't have been something he had overwhelming him. Writing to her must have taken time he had specifically reserved for her. That proved he cared, didn't it? Yes, it did.

Ginny lifted her head and nodded with an air of finality. He hadn't meant what he said, she as positive of it now. He was still on that mind trip that involved him denying her to protect her. But it was definitely all an act. Ginny wouldn't accept anything other than that. And if it was all an act, then she could destroy it. She could tear it away piece by piece until all that was left was her Harry, and how he truly felt. She could do it, and on Merlin's grave she would. The first six years that she had loved him (even if slightly obsessively) had been spent in silence. No more. She was strong in all other aspects of her life, and the issue of Harry Potter would be not exception. She would get her man if it was the last thing she did.

He had hurt her, Harry knew. Ginny didn't storm anywhere unless she was in a temper or she was hurt and didn't want anyone to see it. He should go after her. His conscience was screaming to go and make amends, because Ginny was the first person on his list of people he didn't want to lose. But his mind was telling him that to do that would be acknowledging his love for her, and didn't he know what happened to the people he loved. Yes, he knew. It was that knowledge that caused his mind to win.

"Harry-," Lily said quietly.

Harry jumped. He hadn't remembered she was still there. "Please, Lily," he begged, "Don't say anything to me right now."

Lily liked to talk, but she knew when people needed quiet to think. She nodded and continued eating her breakfast in silence.

It wasn't long before everybody else began arriving for breakfast. Fee stopped to say a quick good morning to Lily, Elaina barely glanced at the Gryffindor table before skipping- literally- over to the Ravenclaw table to steal coffee from a boy on the end. Wormtail came down, for once, without the other Marauders and sat a few seats away, and shortly after the others gathered around the table as well.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione immediately asked, foregoing breakfast for the moment at the sight of her friend.

"Yeah," Ron added. He had not chosen the same as his girlfriend and was shoveling food onto his plate, "You look like hell boiled over and vomited itself up on you."

"Gee, thanks," Harry muttered dryly.

Hermione elbowed Ron forcefully in the ribs, "Show some compassion, Ron! Seriously, Harry, what happened?"

Harry sighed. There was no way his friends would leave him alone when it came to a matter like this. His brooding silences usually boded ill, and they liked knowing what he was thinking about, so they could know what to expect whenever said ill event occurred.

"Ginny," Harry sighed.

Ron was in big brother mode immediately, "What did you do?"

"I- she- and then…" Harry gestured vaguely toward the doors.

"What- did- you- do?" Ron demanded.

Harry sighed again, but couldn't bring himself to answer. He shook his head and looked down.

"He said that they weren't anything," Lily said quietly, glancing apologetically at Harry. "And then she left."

Hermione groaned and Ron looked down, uncomfortable with where this conversation might lead.

"Broke her heart, did you?" James asked from Harry's right.

"Potter!" Lily scolded. "Why would you say that! Don't you have any compassion?"

"I have plenty of compassion, Lily," James said in an offhand way. "You'd know that if you'd let me show you."

Lily glared daggers at him. "_Never_ will I ever be close enough to you that I would need or want your compassion, provided that you have any."

"I'm not so insensitive, Evans."

"Could have fooled me."

Neither of them was eating now, as their full attention was directed at the other. Harry had stopped thinking about Ginny for one minute, his interest focused on the two people who were supposed to love each other by the end of the year- the people who were supposed to marry and have a child. He had to admit, it was unnerving watching his parents hate each other.

"Then let me prove it to you!" James said, proving that yes, he could think up the most inopportune moment to ask somebody out.

"_No!_" Lily shrieked.

Few people were looking over at them. Apparently, this happened often enough to not demand attention anymore.

"Why not?"

"Because you're a selfish, arrogant jerk! That just proved it!"

James had the look in his eye that every teenage male has at least once in his life- the one that says 'Help! I have no clue what this girl is talking about!' "_What_-,"

"Harry!" Lily's voice must have raised an entire octave. "He's obviously having a hard time with Ginny, and you have to go and say something as insensitive as-,"

"He was _not_ obviously having a hard time," James interrupted. "He was no _obviously_ doing anything except sitting there."

"Hermione could tell! Elaina and Alice and Sophie could tell!"

"That's because they're all _female_!" James cried, throwing his arms in the air.

"_Chauvinist!_"

James was quiet for a moment. "_What_?"

"Uh, guys?" Elaina leaned in between Arnau and Lily, "As much as I hate to interrupt this love fest, Transfiguration starts in about ten minutes, and you all need to get up to the tower and grab your things."

Lily stood immediately and walked out of the Great Hall without once glancing at James. Arnau and Peter followed immediately, needing their things for class.

The others were less driven to get to class on time.

"So, what just happened?" James asked uncertainly.

"You were called a chauvinist," Remus replied matter-of-factly, while shoving a napkin into his book to mark his page. He was far less prone to sarcasm and snapping now that the full moon had passed.

"But," James stuttered, looking extremely lost, "Was she right? Did I say anything that…"

"Made you sound like a sexist bigot?" Remus supplied helpfully. James nodded. "Well, you did make that comment on females, so that could be considered sexist, and you always act like a bigot-," dogmatist

"You are the most unhelpful urchin in existence," James deadpanned.

Remus shrugged and began leading the others out the doors.

"Maybe you could try being nice to her, and not fight," Harry suggested. He couldn't help but try to get his parents together. Plus, it got Ginny out of his mind.

"I've tried," James replied miserably, "She thought I was planning a prank on her."

"But you always fight back when she snaps," Hermione put in.

"What else should I do?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "_Don't_. She isn't going to go with someone she hates, and you're not going to get her to stop hating you if you keep yelling at her."

James looked at Hermione pathetically. "Why is your species so _complicated_? Can't you ever just tell somebody what you want?"

Hermione shrugged and they continued on in silence.

Sirius, never the fan of silences, decided to break it. "So, Harry- Transfiguration. You plan on having any fits this time?"

They had had Transfiguration the third day they were there. The moment McGonagall began her lecture, Harry placed her voice as the one he had heard arguing with Dumbledore on the first day there. He had begun laughing at himself for not realizing it immediately, but then he remembered the conversation, and how McGonagall had had a book on divination, and couldn't stop laughing. He went on for nearly three minutes, unable to banish the image of McGonagall reading a book on Fate in front of a fire, crystal ball on her coffee table and bunny slippers on her feet.

"I don't think he's in a very cheery mood," Remus said simply.

Harry nodded vaguely. Just as they were rounding a corner on the sixth floor, he thought he saw a flash of red hair. He sighed. Well, her absence from his thoughts had been nice while it lasted…

A/N: **IMPORTANT**: I need need NEED prank ideas. I am extremely not good at funny. Sarcasm and human emotions are my thing; I can't help it. I also can't help that the Marauders _are_ funny and are renowned for their pranking prowess. So, if anybody has any ideas, PLEASE pass them on to me, and I'll be sure to thank you if ever I use them. Thanks!


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"_I told you the piece would be a distraction,"_ Time said in a voice that could only be described as smug.

"**This round has not yet played out,**" Fate snapped in response, his eyes not leaving the Game board.

"_And what has your pawn done the entire time mine has been there?"_ Time sounded like he was desperately trying to pick a fight with his opponent. "_He has moped and pitied himself, and done nothing to help his situation."_

"**He will focus!**" Fate nearly roared in response. "**This Game is mine!**"

Time chuckled, "_You sound very unsure, __**friend**__. It is not something I think Fate should be."_

* * *

Harry didn't know how the Marauders ever got away with anything. They were so insanely obvious about planning their pranks that Harry was surprised the Slytherins and staff didn't see it coming a mile away. For the past three days, all four of them had been sitting in one corner of the common room, their heads together, whispering and every once in a while lifting their heads up to look for eavesdroppers.

On the third evening, Harry was so desperate to get Ginny out of his mind (she had been giving him the silent treatment, and he was loath to admit how greatly that upset him) that he decided to figure out what the Marauders were doing. Hermione had locked herself up in her room again (this, like Ginny's silent treatment, was an ongoing event), Ron was trying to understand Charms through Lily's and Fee's tutoring, and Ginny was out of the question as an accomplice, so Harry decided to go it alone.

He made for the supply cupboards in the room (always guaranteed to be filled with parchment and ink, and conveniently located just behind the four seventh years).

"…nicked it from Slughorn just this morning," James was saying. "It should be good for another two days as long as we keep it warm."

Remus nodded as Harry quietly shifted through the ink wells in the cupboard. "I've got it under a perpetual heating charm. So long as one of us renews the charm every five hours, it'll keep as long as we want it to."

"But we're doing it tomorrow, right?" Sirius asked quietly, shooting a look up at Harry, who was innocently (and slowly) measuring a piece of parchment.

"Definitely," James replied. "Does everybody know their part?"

The other three nodded, and Remus said, "Right. Whoever's part starts today, get to it. Status meeting tonight at ten, got it?"

Once more the Marauders nodded. Remus and Peter got up and walked off, but Sirius and James stayed sitting. Harry casually cut off a piece of parchment and turned to walk away…only to find that he couldn't. He glanced down at his feet, then up into the grinning faces of Sirius and James. Oh, they were good. Harry hadn't even felt the charm hit him.

"Hear anything of interest?" James asked nonchalantly.

Harry glanced pointedly at his feet, "I'd tell you, but being constrained tends to affect my ability to remember."

Sirius flicked his wand, and Harry was free. He walked over to the couch across from his father and godfather and sat down. He had been able to understand some of what they were going to do as a prank, but only out of sheer luck.

"So?" Sirius prompted.

Honesty was probably the way to go with these two. "Who are feeding Amorentia to?" Harry asked.

James raised an eyebrow and Sirius's jaw dropped. "How?" was all he managed.

Harry shrugged. "I heard you saying you nicked it from Slughorn. I _do_ have the same Potions class as you two. He had Amorentia sitting in the front cauldron." He smiled at their put out expressions. "So who are you giving it to?"

"I won't tell," Sirius said, sticking his nose in the air and sounding like a three year old.

There was a moment of silence before James broke it, somewhat awkwardly, "_So_…does it ever…rain in Australia?"

Harry tried very hard to hold back his laughter, and almost succeeded. He chuckled a moment before straightening his face. "Oh, it's been known to happen time to time. But only when we get all of our ghosts together and they perform an ancient variation of the Macarena."

"Is it any fun to watch?" Sirius asked interestedly.

Harry nodded and replied with mock sincerity, "Oh, very. Just don't let them get into the ghostly ale, or they'll screw it all up and we'll have typhoons for weeks."

"I thought ghosts couldn't eat or drink," Sirius remarked, sounding extremely confused.

Unable to hold in his laughter anymore, Harry threw back his head and laughed.

The confused look on Sirius's face didn't abate until he looked across the room to see a sobbing girl. "Oh look, Eleanor's upset. She looks like she could use a comforting arm." He got up and strode immediately to the girl.

"He's not really that much of an idiot…usually," James said, somewhat embarassed, trying to explain his friend.

"Oh, I know," Harry replied, still laughing quietly at his godfather.

"You know," James said, tilting his head to the side and studying Harry, "I really haven't talked to any of you too much, have I?"

"I didn't expect you to," Harry lied easily.

James nodded, quiet for a moment. The entire time the silence lasted, Harry was begging for him to say something, anything, so that he could strike up a friendship with the father he never knew. Yet he was too scared to say anything himself, for fear of chasing James far away from him.

In the end it was James who spoke first, "So, you ever played Quidditch?"

Harry brightened considerably. "Yeah, I was a seeker on my house team."

James leaned forward, immediately interested, "Really? Me too. Were you any good?"

"I've probably got one of the best Snitch catching records around." Harry was trying so hard for it to come out nonchalantly, but this was the first one on one conversation with his dad, and he couldn't help but brag.

James whistled in appreciation. They spoke for quite some time, debating strategy and plays. Harry was having a hard time grasping it. He was speaking with his dad for the first time in his life. He was really _speaking_ to him! He had been given a chance to see for himself how his parents were. James had an ego, like Snape had always told him, but he was a good man, hopelessly in love with Lily as Sirius and Remus had constantly assured him. He was James- his father.

The father/son bonding (even if James didn't know that was what it was) was broken by Hermione flying down the steps of the girl's dormitory. "Harry!" she practically shrieked.

Harry whipped around in alarm. His mind flashed to a million things that could be wrong, before he relaxed at the sight of his friend grinning at him happily.

"I just finished it!" She exclaimed happily, waving the book above her head. "I've got so many ideas, and I think it explains a lot, and… where are Ron and Ginny?"

Harry shrugged, "Lily's tutoring Ron. I don't know where Ginny is. Did you need to find them?"

Hermione thought for a minute, obviously torn between sharing what she had learned and letting her boyfriend continue devoting his time to his school books for the moment. Her studious attitude won. "Well…I guess I can tell you tomorrow. Can we all get together then?"

Harry nodded, "Tomorrow."

* * *

Hermione and Ginny were already in the Room of Requirement, waiting for Ron and Harry to show up. They were supposed to have been there ten minutes ago, but something held them up.

"We're going to be late," Ron deadpanned as the stood at the back of a very packed, unmoving hallway with no staircase in sight.

Harry nodded, not saying a word.

"What d'you reckon is holding them up?"

Before Harry could answer, a very loud 'gobble' echoed down the hallway.

"What the-," Ron muttered.

Five large turkeys came running between the throng of people, followed closely by Snape. "Wait, please! Come back!" He called after them, arms extended and back bent as he tried to catch the turkeys, all of which, Harry saw, were wearing Hufflepuff scarves.

"What happened?" Harry asked a girl who had followed Snape and the turkeys from the beginning of the hallway.

"They used to be a group of Hufflepuffs," the girl replied, nodding toward the birds, "until they walked through the door up ahead. The second they were through, poof! Sunday dinner. We were all trying to catch them for a bit, until Snape came running at us. He started professing his undying love for them, and we stopped trying to catch them and started watching."

"Huh," was all Harry said as Snape- a few feet away- threw himself down onto the floor, arms raised to the sky. "Why can't you see that I love you!" he cried in agony.

Ron nearly fell down laughing as Snape continued, "Your round body, those floofy tails, that nameless _things_ on your necks! I love you! Please, please come back!"

Rolling his eyes at how pathetic it was (and trying as hard as possible not to laugh at how Snape sounded when confessing his love), Harry grabbed Ron's elbow and pulled him toward the Room of Requirement.

"You're late," were the first words out of Hermione's mouth.

Ron winced. If she was angry, he'd be the one to get hurt the most.

"Sit down, then," Hermione continued, motioning to the two empty chairs. "We've got a lot to get through."

Ron sat beside his girlfriend, leaving Harry the chair that was placed, at least he thought, _incredibly_ close to Ginny. Sighing, he took a seat and tried not to think of the redhead beside him.

"They're here now," Ginny said, sounding slightly irritated, "Tell me why we're all here."

Harry closed his eyes. Don't look at her, don't look at her, don't- oh, Merlin, he looked. She glared. Was she really that angry? She looked like she was. Why hadn't she forgiven him yet?

"…finished last night, but you weren't there," Hermione's voice cut through Harry's thoughts.

"So what's it say?" Ron asked, motioning to the book.

Hermione picked it up and opened to a marked page. "_The concept of Fate as a being, rather than a concept, has been around for years beyond count,_" she read. "_It would be impossible to pinpoint the exact date when this concept occurred, most likely because Fate has been accepted as an entity since the beginning of time. This leads to the assumption that even primitive people knew that __**something**__ controlled their lives. It is possible to hypothesize, then, that the assumption has been around for such a long time because it is more than an assumption- it is the truth. Fate exists, and this being governs our lives."_

"So that's saying there's some all powerful thing up there, looking down and pointing to random people saying, 'you're going to die', or 'you'll become anorexic'?" Ron sounded extremely skeptical.

Harry was silent. He wasn't sure if he should dismiss what Hermione had read so quickly. After all, if Fate truly did exist, as that book claimed, then that would certainly explain the majority of Harry's life up until that point.

"But it makes sense, Ron," Hermione argued. "Going back in time, the voice telling us we had a second chance, _everything_ that ever happened to Harry. Fate could explain all of it."

"So could rotten circumstances," the redhead shot back.

Hermione glared at him, "Just listen to me, alright? We went back in time because something happened that wasn't supposed to, so Fate gave us a second chance. Why here? Who knows? This is where we were supposed to come to. Why did I find a book that would explain our situation to us? Because I was _fated_ to! I'm telling you, Ron, this is true! That being, entity, god, whatever _it_ is sent us back here and led me to this book so I would understand! This is how we got here!"

Ron crossed his arms, "Since when did you become so into divination?"

"This isn't divining! It's an explanation to something that's happened to us!"

"Okay, say you're right," Ginny interrupted, "How does knowing that help us? We're still here, unable to get back. Who cares if it was a god named Fate who sent us back?"

"Because," Hermione explained, "As soon as I realized that this was true, and that Fate was what brought us back, I started thinking about how we could fix all this. I've got an idea now."

"Pray tell," Ginny said dryly.

Hermione crossed her legs, taking up her standard 'explanation' pose. "I've gone through all the years when something of importance has happened in Harry's life, so basically when he was one and every school year. And I think… how do I explain this? Because I _know_ Fate is real, I'm pretty sure that Voldemort will mark Harry. He was destined to. So this second chance isn't to keep Harry from becoming the Boy-Who-Lived, it's to fix the end."

"How?" Harry asked, speaking for the first time. Ron might not believe any of what was going on, but if reading that book helped Hermione figure out how to fix his life, he was all for it.

"I'm going to go through, year by year and explain what can and can't be changed, okay?

"First, Halloween. It has to happen, Harry, I'm sorry. The world needs a reprieve from Voldemort, and the only way I can see that happening is by what happened to you when you were one.

"But we can keep Sirius from going after Wormtail. If, somehow, we can stop him from doing that, he'd never go to Azkaban. I'm not entirely sure how that will effect everything, but it will be better for Sirius, right?"

"So…" Harry was trying to work through everything in his mind, "I could go live with Sirius?"

Hermione looked at him sadly, and he knew what the answer would be. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said quietly, "but there's the matter of the blood protection that you had while living with your aunt. Plus, I think that living with the Dursleys somehow made you into who you are today. If you changed, you might not be able to do the whole 'saving people thing'.

"So, first year, Quirrell, I think is necessary too. It taught you how strong you really are; you stood up to Voldemort and won. I think you needed that confidence boost.

"Second year's the same, sorry, Gin. I think the diary has to stay. Harry destroyed a Horcrux that year, and if you didn't, who knows if we'd have ever been able to find the diary locked away in Malfoy Manor? There's the whole Parseltongue thing too, although I don't think it's a very large deal.

"Third year, though, we can change. If Sirius doesn't go after Wormtail that night, he wouldn't have gone to Azkaban, and there'd be no reason for _anything_ in third year to happen."

"But what about Scabbers?" Ron asked.

Hermione frowned. "I don't know; I really don't. Let's say, though, hypothetically from here on out since we've changed something, that Wormtail doesn't get to Voldemort at the end of third year. That leaves us with an incredibly altered life.

"Wormtail wouldn't have gone off to Voldemort, so Crouch Jr. wouldn't have gone out to find him. No Quidditch Cup mayhem, no Triwizard Tournament, and, most importantly, Voldemort won't have used your blood that day in the graveyard. That means he'd be incredibly weaker.

"I don't know what would happen after third year. I mean, he has to come back sometime. There's no way he'll be gone forever. And if Wormtail doesn't get away to help him come back, someone like Crouch certainly will."

"So what would we have changed, really?" Harry asked quietly.

"It all revolves around Sirius, really," Hermione explained. "Because of him not going to Azkaban, Voldemort will come back, hopefully, later- weaker. And Sirius won't be hiding away in Grimauld Place, afraid of getting sent to back to Azkaban, so who knows how drastically that will affect the future? He may not even die that night in the Ministry. And, well, I hate to say this, but when we were on the Horcrux hunt, and you were finally away from everybody, you hit a funk, Harry. Sirius's death came and hit you hard then. You were depressed, and a lot of things that shouldn't have happened did because of your depression. I think… maybe if those things didn't happen, that night in Russia might not come to pass."

"What happened in Russia?" Ginny asked quietly.

The other three looked at her silently. "We'll tell you later," her brother said, before continuing, "This all seems like an awful lot of guesswork. Why don't we just kill Voldemort in the past, so we won't have to worry about any of this?"

Hermione shook her head, "We don't know when Voldemort made any of his Horcruxes, or where he's hidden them. It would be impossible to know if we had found them all or not, so it would be impossible to kill him here. I think our best bet is to change what we can in the future."

"Okay," Harry said, "So we just, what? Leave a message telling Sirius not to chase after Wormtail?"

Hermione was quiet, thinking. "I actually had a thought. I haven't worked it out fully yet, but I think I'm on the right track. Harry, I- now, you're not going to like this, but please think about it, and how I'm usually right- I want you to talk to Peter. Become friends with him, and teach him a little about loyalty. Don't look at me like that! I think it could really help. I'm not entirely sure how just yet, but I… I have a feeling, alright?"

Harry was quiet. Yes, Hermione usually was right. Her feelings usually panned out. But could he actually go and become _friends_ with the man who would betray his parents to their deaths? A little part of his mind was telling him yes, because that man didn't exist inside of Wormtail yet. He could change him, so that his parents weren't betrayed by a friend. But that would mean actually conversing with the little rat…

He sighed. "Fine. I'll try. But I won't guarantee results."

This was not going to be easy…

* * *

AN: Okay, thanks go out to WhiteTwitch, Fensta, and- in some ways- lonelyslytherinslowlydying for the prank. I'm going to reiterate that I am not so good at funny, so if the prank was not up to any of your standards, I'm sorry. Truly I am.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"You insensitive _prat_!"

Harry didn't need to go downstairs to figure out what was happening. Hermione's screeching voice was extremely distinctive.

"What do you mean, 'what did you do'! I can't believe you would even need to ask a question like that!"

Rolling his eyes, Harry pulled on his robe and went downstairs toward the shrieking. Couple or not, Hermione and Ron were still Hermione and Ron, and that meant that they would always fight.

"Well then I'm obviously an idiot," Harry heard Ron muttering, "because I don't have a clue what you're going on about."

"Don't call yourself an idiot, Ron," Hermione snapped.

Harry had arrived at the foot of the stairs, and instead of interrupting the two red faced teens, he merely sat on the steps, joined seconds later by Ginny. He tensed when she sat down, not knowing what to expect from her, or from himself.

"Remember the good old days?" she muttered dryly, "Back before all the love got in the way of their arguments? When Ron would call himself an idiot and Hermione would let him?"

Good. She was speaking to him, and not in anger either. Words couldn't describe how thrilled Harry was by that. Sure, he had done his share of ignoring her too over the week, and he would admit grudgingly that her absence from his life was totally his fault, but he couldn't shake how desolate he had felt when they were not speaking. Apparantly she felt the same, since she had initiated this.

Harry shrugged, "I dunno. I think it's definitely more interesting this way. How did it start, anyway?"

Ginny shrugged in return, "Your guess is as good as mine. I only came down a minute or so before you, and judging by Ron's ears, they had already been going at it for a good five minutes."

"Hmm. How long d'you think it'll last?"

"With those two?" Ginny asked dryly, "Who knows? One minute they could be ignoring each other, and the next sitting side by side, talking civilly. It's definitely a sign of love."

Her tone was mocking and dry, but Harry couldn't help but notice what she had left unspoken, to be read between the lines. She had described their situation- his and Ginny's- not talking, then sitting beside each other comfortably, only in terms of Hermione and Ron. And what was more, he was positive she had meant for it to be that way. Instead of replying, Harry merely grunted.

"Oh look," Ginny said casually, "Hermione's going to throw a vase."

Harry looked up with mild interest. She always threw things at Ron; it just made it more entertaining for the spectators when what she threw was breakable.

The glass shattered, but Harry didn't see it. Just as the projectile left Hermione's fingertips, Harry's line of sight was blocked by a wall of legs.

"What do you think?"

Harry glanced up. One of the pairs of legs in front of him belonged to Sirius. He was looking over at James, one eyebrow cocked, and motioning toward Harry and Ginny.

"Well," James replied pensively, "Shrinking is always a solution. That way we could just step right over them. But then we have the whole problem with can we find them again to un-shrink them, what if we regrow them too large, does shrinking for a long period of time have any adverse effects on some of the more important parts of one's anatomy… we really haven't run enough tests to be at all sure that shrinking is an acceptable way to do this."

"Hmm." Sirius was quiet for a moment, studying the exasperated faces of Harry and Ginny. "What about levitation?"

Remus shook his head, "No good. Harry's far too tall to be levitated up to the ceiling, and still leave enough room beneath him for us to fit. Transfiguration?"

"Into what?" Peter asked, his arms crossed.

"How about a cat and a bird?" James suggested. "That way one can chase the other, leaving the stairway completely empty."

Remus nodded, "A good plan in theory, but what happens when they need to get to class and are still chasing each other? Or what if whoever the cat is actually kills the bird? Then _we_ have all the problems concerning the murder. We'd have to steal the money from Sirius's mother's vault to pay for the lawyer, bribe the judge, clear our record. It's all really a big hassle that we should try our hardest to avoid."

Ginny decided to end this all before it got any further, "Now, I'm no Marauder," she said, raising an eyebrow, "But may I make a suggestion?"

Sirius waved his hand regally, permitting her to continue.

"Why not just asking us to move? That way _we_ don't have the unpleasant situation of having magic thrown at us, you get up to the tower, and nobody ends up with murder or shrunken, potentially important body parts?"

The Marauders looked at each other.

"It's a good idea, if lacking a little imagination," James said, "What say you, Padfoot?"

Sirius nodded, "I'm inclined to agree, Prongs. It does seem the easiest, if not funnest, way. Moony?"

"Funnest is not a word, Sirius," was all Remus said until the other four glared at him. Sighing, Remus continued, "Oh, _fine_. Yes, I agree with Padfoot and Prongs. Can you please concur, Wormtail, so we can get this idiocy over with?"

Peter nodded and simply said, "I concur."

James rubbed his hands together, "Great! I love it when things turn out unanimously. Now, ahem! Harry? Ginny?" His voice was completely somber.

Harry decided to play along, looking up at his father and replying in an equally serious tone, "Yes, James?"

"Could you please move?"

Harry glanced over at Ginny, who appeared as if she couldn't decide whether to view the situation with humor or contempt. "What do you think?"

She rolled her eyes. "I think that, now that Ron and Hermione have shut up and gone off separately to cool down, there's nothing left for entertainment here, and I'm off to the library." She patted Harry's knee, stood up, and exited the common room. Harry watched her leave before standing up and allowing the Marauders to go upstairs, following behind them.

"So, this Saturday starting at three?" James asked, flopping down on his bed.

Sirius nodded, pulling out a few rubber balls and trying to juggle with them, "I'm free. It seems like as good a time as any."

Harry, watching Sirius's failed attempts at juggling (one ball flew back to hit him in the forehead, one out the window, and the third shot sideways and straight into Remus's finger), asked, "What's on Saturday?"

"Quidditch tryouts," Sirius replied, studying the broken glass. "Hey, Remmy-?"

"Reparo is the word you're looking for, Sirius," Remus muttered, rubbing his bruised finger.

Harry nodded, "So Quidditch season is starting soon, then?"

James nodded, "Sirius is captain this year. Which means _I _get to co-captain. Hey, Harry, you play, don't you?"

Harry nodded, silently wishing that he could play Quidditch again, "Yeah, seeker. But you said that was your position, right? So it's not like I'd show up for tryouts. What are you looking for, anyway?"

"Just a beater," Sirius, having successfully fixed the window, replied. "Of course, since most of our players are fifth years or higher, I'm opening tryouts for all position. That way if anyone better has shown up in the past four years or so, they can be on the team."

"I've just had a great idea!" Wormtail exclaimed from where he had been sitting on his bed. Harry seriously doubted it, but chose not to reply. Wormtail continued, "You haven't had any competition since you joined the team, right, James?"

James ran his hand through his hair, striking what he must have thought to be a noble pose, "Of course not."

"Well, why don't we see if Harry's a match for you or not?"

"A battle of the Seekers, huh?" James mused, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "Why not? You want to, Harry?"

Harry was a little startled about where this had led to all of a sudden. He was even more shocked that his father was accepting an idea from that rat, "Right now?"

James leapt off his bed, digging through his trunk. "Yeah, why not? We've got nothing better to do. We actually came up here trying to find some way to get un-bored. So, what do you say? We'll head off to the Quidditch stands now, first to find the Snitch wins."

"Oh, well," Harry's hesitancy was not for lack of wanting. In fact, Quidditch spent between just him and his dad seemed like the closest thing to a perfect day that Harry had ever heard of. There was no doubt in his mind that he would say yes to the idea, even if it was suggested by Wormtail. But still… "I don't have a broom."

James shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You can borrow Padfoot's, right?"

Sirius gazed at Harry warily. "That depends. You're not a fatality on a broomstick, are you? Because mine's brand new- I just bought it over the summer. You injure Giddy Bubbles and I'll have you flogged…in public…which means we may have to go over to Saudi Arabia where public flogging is a legal type of punishment…but rest assured, one way or another you will be flogged."

Harry decided to overlook his future godfather's overzealous love of his broom (he also decided it would not be smart to inform him of the infamous Whomping Willow incident of third year), and focused instead on something Sirius had said, "Giddy…_Bubbles_?"

Remus let out a howl of laughter, "He was thrilled to have a new broom and demanded that we help name it. He was being Sirius and wouldn't shut up, so I told him to name his broom Giddy Bubbles- they were the floofiest two words I could think of at the time. Of course he decided it was a _perfect_ name, so Giddy Bubbles his Nimbus 500 became."

Harry snorted, "Yeah, alright, I'll be careful on your broom."

Five minutes later, all five of them were out on the Quidditch pitch, and James and Harry had brooms slung over their shoulders. James pulled his stolen Snitch from his pocket and handed it off to Sirius.

"Okay, you two," Sirius began, "Rules and regulations: One, I'm not telling you when I release the Snitch. Two, first person to grab it and land wins. Three, while you're trying to land after you've caught the Snitch, the other person can do whatever they want to knock it out of your hands. Four, anything goes up there, except curses. Okay, leave your wands on the ground and be sure to give us a good show! One, two, three, go!"

Harry and James kicked off with equal force, rising in the air at the same speed then shooting off in different directions.

Exhilaration. Sheer exhilaration. How had Harry let himself forget how flying felt? Why had he let himself ignore how much he loved it? Honestly, when had been the last time he had flown just because it was something he loved to do? There really hadn't been much time for flying, Harry reflected as he shot through the clean air. What with the war and all, he hadn't had a chance to do something like flying for the fun of it.

Sirius's Nimbus 500 was much slower than what Harry was used to, but he found it calming. Speeding around faster than anything he could imagine on his Firebolt was elating, but the slower speed of an older broom was fun in a way that Harry had never thought about. It wasn't just zipping from point A to point B; it allowed him time to think and look around while still enjoying the feeling of flight.

True to Sirius's word, he hadn't said anything when he released the snitch. Both Harry and James had, however, been studying him determinedly, and both had noticed when the glint of gold darted away from his fingertips, getting lost in the shadow of the stands.

They immediately began circling in opposite directions, sharp eyes darting fervently for a glimpse of the winged ball. Ten minutes they did that, dipping low and flying high, searching for that elusive snitch. Neither spoke a word to the other, neither let their attention drift. Both were equally determined to beat the other.

And then they both saw it.

Sirius was sitting in the middle of the field, obviously bored out of his mind at the lack of action above him. He was sitting, idly picking grass and waiting for something interesting to happen. The snitch was hovering behind his head.

Harry and James glanced at each other, both trying to decide if the other would try to go for it. They were more than a hundred feet in the air, and the snitch was no more than three feet off the ground. It would be an incredibly risky dive on such slow brooms, and they would be lucky if they pulled out of it uninjured, much less with the snitch. Risk-taking must have been genetic, however, because after no more than two seconds of gazing at each other, trying to decide whether or not to dive, they both plummeted to the ground.

Sirius glanced up just in time to see the two diving at him, twin looks of determination etched into their faces. He looked back, trying to figure out why they were coming at him. His head hit the snitch, understanding flashed through his mind, and he did what any sane man would do; he launched to his feet and took off like a rocket across the field.

The snitch, having lost its hiding place, began flying off down the pitch, staying level at three feet above the ground. Neither Harry nor James paused for a moment to think about what they were doing. They both angled their brooms, still diving, after the moving snitch. The snitch, in the sentient manner it seemed to possess, dove lower, now only two feet off the ground, and remained there.

James leveled off at five feet, positive that he couldn't pull out of a dive at two feet and that Harry would think the same. Harry, however, appeared to be out of his mind. He continued downward, arm outstretched. He always caught the snitch, and the Wronski Feint had been a specialty of his; Harry hadn't thought twice. His fingers grasped around the snitch, he grinned triumphantly, jerked the broom upward, and promptly hit the ground and fell off. It really was incredibly hard to pull of a Wronski Feint with such a slow reacting broom.

"Harry!" James, Sirius, and Remus all called frantically. Harry could hear them rushing over in obvious panic. He had yet to move a muscle. Of course they were panicked.

"Are you alright?" James asked, eyes wide, as he leaned over Harry's prone form.

Harry grinned at him widely and held up the snitch, "I'm great." His voice sounded faint. Had he gotten the wind knocked out of him? No matter, he had suffered worse. Harry pushed himself up to a sitting position, grinning at the worried faces around him. "You all look like I had nearly died."

"Do you have any idea how _fast_ you were going?" Remus asked, his voice higher than usual.

Harry shrugged, "Pretty fast, I'd assume. Freefalling a hundred feet or so is known to build up some speed."

The Marauders were looking at him, jaws unhinged, before James let out a crow of laughter. "That was _incredible!_ I've never seen such an idiotic move in my life! And you almost pulled it off! No, you _did_ pull it off. You caught the snitch didn't you? Amazing. Absolutely amazing." He shook his head and helped Harry to his feet. "Come on. A stunt like that earns honorary lunch with the Marauders in the Hogwarts kitchens. _How _did you even think about pulling that off?"

The five of them walked off to the kitchens, the feeling of elation inside Harry from being finally one hundred percent accepted by his father and friends made the feeling of flying look like a faint glimmer of happiness.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Lunch with the Marauders was probably the happiest event in all of Harry's life. They had made their way down to the kitchen, Sirius and James's arms draped across Harry's shoulders. The house elves had, of course, provided a plethora of food, and a very loud, very entertaining lunch had begun.

About halfway through a slice of cake, Sirius looked up suddenly, "So, Harry. Did you know I'm missing my middle toe?"

Harry glanced up at him, slowly swallowing a mouthful of cookie and trying to decide if he was joking or not. "No…I didn't. How did it happen?"

This seemed to be just the thing Sirius was waiting for. He grinned widely, struck a serious, dramatic pose, and began to tell his tale. "Well, I was out walking about two weeks ago, when suddenly I hear these hooves behind me. I spin around, and it's a knight of Voldemort, charging me down!" Harry tried very hard to hide his amused snort. A knight of Voldemort? Who did Sirius think he was fooling? "I weighed my options- run or fight? My self preservation was screaming at me, 'Run, you idiot!'"

"Ah, so your self preservation knows you well?" James interrupted, receiving a glare from his friend.

"_Anyway,"_ Sirius continued dramatically, still glaring at James, "I knew I couldn't run. My honor wouldn't allow it. So I stood my place, glaring down the charging knight. He reached me… and stopped. He dismounted slowly, armor clicking." Harry rolled his eyes. "And when he stood firmly on the ground in front of me, he pulled out his wand. I had left mine in the dorm, yet stolid I stood, unmoving. Not even blinking! It unnerved the knight, I could tell, so he was slightly off when he charged at me. I fought him bravely- fists against wand! It was horrible- he would curse, I would duck and hit him low. I'm telling you, dearest Harry, 'twas not a sight I would have you watch. Finally, though, I scared him away. He was no match for my swift fervor. Alas, although I won, he left with his own souvenir." Silently, Sirius raised up his shoed left foot, allowing those around the table to imagine the missing appendage.

There was silence around the table for a moment, each person trying to decide if laughing would be appropriate or not, then Peter coughed, "Twirling his wand, showing off to Muriel," cough, cough, "Dropped it on his foot." He continued 'coughing' for a moment, pounding his fist against his chest, before looking up to meet his friend's angry eyes.

"Yes, well," Sirius said stiffly, looking above everyone's heads, "That is what some, _less_ _informed_ people would like to believe,"

Harry handed his empty plate to a house elf, grinning at his future godfather, "I'm curious, Sirius, why was Voldemort's knight fighting you?"

"He probably wanted his '_swift fervor'_," Remus snickered.

The friends laughed, and Sirius continued to stare determinedly at the ceiling, "Go ahead; believe what you wish. _I _know the truth of it!"

James rolled his eyes and glanced at his watch. "Hey! Plan EchoCharlieKiloGo! was supposed to be started an hour ago! Right, that's it, begin preparation phase!"

Remus, Sirius, and James immediately got up and fled the room, leaving Harry alone with Wormtail.

"So…" said Harry, suddenly very uncomfortable, "Shouldn't you be involved in this preparation thing?"

"Nope," replied Wormtail cheerfully as he grabbed another cookie off the massive plate in the center of the table, "I'm not much good at spells. I'm usually only used as a distraction or something, and we don't need one of those just yet."

"Hmm," was Harry's only response. He could jinx that little rat right now, and no one would ever know. Night terrors for a month, unstoppable leg cramps, bat bogey. They all sounded highly appealing to Harry right now. Of course it would never avenge what Wormtail had done to him- or would do, as the case may be- but it would be a start. And it would certainly make Harry feel a bit better… but he had promised Hermione, hadn't he? He swore not to attack Wormtail, and then he had agreed to try to befriend him.

Looking at the chubby teenager in front of him right now, Harry was questioning his own sanity. Why had he agreed to do that? He knew he couldn't. Be civil to Wormtail? _Befriend _him? Impossible! He was the reason for everything in Harry's life, if you bypassed blaming Trelawney or Voldemort. He couldn't simply overlook that. Could he?

Gritting his teeth and sighing at what he put himself through, Harry sighed and looked across the table at Wormtail. "So… James and Sirius have Quidditch, Remus reads, what… what do you do?"

Wormtail shrugged, "I don't do much, really." _Except kiss the hem of your master's robes and betray your best friends_. "Mostly I just tag along with one of the other three and try to entertain myself wherever they decide to go."

_Dear Merlin!_ Harry exclaimed to himself. _Didn't this person have any personality at all?_ "There has to be _something_, right? Something that you like to do when you have time to yourself?"

"Well, I do…" Wormtail looked down, a bit embarrassed. "I draw, a little." His face was red now.

"Why are you embarrassed by that?" Harry asked, actually a little curious.

"Well, you know, I've never really told the others, and I don't think… James and Sirius, they might not think it's…"

What? Cool? Oh, for the love of God, did he really have no opinions of his own? "So why don't you tell them? See what they think?"

"Well," Wormtail said, obviously uncomfortable at the thought of being open with this new kid. "I mean, what if they don't like it? I'd have to stop, and…"

Harry couldn't take it any more. With a pleading look skyward, he stood up and left the room, desperate to get away from the mindless, insecure teenager before him.

* * *

Ginny had been spending her day with Lily and her friends, and had discovered that she really liked them quite a bit. She, Lily, Arnau, and Elaina were all seated around a window that looked out on the lake. Elaina was sprawled across the large sill with a pair of chopsticks (Ginny had been trying to figure out where she could have gotten those for the past twenty minutes) and was beating a quiet, calming rhythm on the windowsill. Arnau had his feet propped up on Lily's chair, Lily was idly skimming over her Charms essay, and Ginny was curled up in her own chair, eyes closed and listening to the conversation going on around her with a slight smile.

"I'm telling you, Elaina," Arnau said in his deep, quiet voice, "One year of practice does not make you eligible to start your own band."

"Ah, but one year of practice combined with _amazing_ talent does," the brunette countered.

Lily raised a hand to cup her ear. "What's that? Oh yes, I think it's Beethoven, turning over in his grave. Talent she says!"

Elaina stuck her nose into the air and continued to play against the windowsill. "Say what you want, but nothing will keep me down!"

Ginny chuckled, shaking her head, and was about to add something when the portrait suddenly slammed. She opened one eye a crack to see Harry storming in. Both eyes immediately were wide open, and she was on her feet, rushing over to him to see what was wrong. She caught him by the arm as he was stomping past her and pulled him into a corner. "What happened?"

Harry stood there, looking silently at her for several seconds before he closed his eyes and looked down. "I can't do it," he growled.

"Can't do what?" Ginny asked. Her voice was gentle, and her hand hadn't left Harry's arm.

"Wormtail! I can't-," he paused for a moment, breathing deeply. "I _tried _to talk to him- just now, down in the kitchen. We were alone, and it seemed like a good time to do what Hermione asked. So I asked him a few questions. And he's _mindless_, Gin! He doesn't have opinions of his own! James and Sirius are the coolest, the most powerful, so he only does what he knows they approve of! No wonder he runs off to Voldemort the first moment he can! He's weak, and mindless, and I can't be nice to him! Let alone be friends with him!"

"Harry. Harry, look at me," Ginny commanded quietly, moving her hand from his arm to his face so that she could tilt it up and meet his eyes. "You knew this wouldn't be easy. You knew that this was how Wormtail was. He was always a shadow to whoever had the power. People throughout your entire life have told you as much. But that's what you're trying to change. You're trying to get Wormtail to become stronger, stand without leaning on James and Sirius. That way when the time comes, he won't run automatically to Voldemort. This isn't going to be easy, Harry. But you can do it. I know you, and I believe in you. You've done harder things before and you didn't quit then. You're going to do this. You're going to get through to Wormtail."

Harry was quiet for a long time, simply staring at Ginny while she stared back. "You think so?" He asked finally, his voice a whisper.

She nodded, smiling softly at him. "I know so."

"And if I realize that I only want to kill him when I'm alone with him, not befriend him?"

Ginny shook her head, "You won't. Wormtail may have done horrible things to you and your parents, and you might want to pummel him, but you're strong enough to control yourself. Besides, you're not a killer. You wouldn't do anything to Wormtail unless you absolutely had to."

"Are you sure?" Harry's voice was still nothing above a whisper. "I don't want to, not really, but how do you know I won't?"

"Because I know _you_, Harry," she told him, brushing a few strands of his currently golden hair out of his eyes. "You're good, and you're kind, and you can rub off on Wormtail. You're overflowing heroism. It would be impossible for you _not _to affect him."

Harry nodded barely and sighed, his eyes never leaving hers. "Thank you."

Ginny smiled up at him warmly, "Not a problem."

Harry's mind was fuzzy. He knew that Ginny's hand was on his cheek, and that he hadn't looked away from her eyes for the past two minutes, and the overwhelming since of _right_ that he was feeling right now, but apart from that there was nothing. No discernable thoughts could be picked out from his mind; there was only the maelstrom of feelings created by Ginny.

And so he wasn't thinking when he leaned towards her. His thoughts didn't get in the way when she returned the movement. They were incredibly close; her breath mingled with his in the scant space between their mouths, his arms had wrapped around her, unbidden, and he could feel with heightened senses where her hand now touched his neck.

'This is right,' his thoughts repeated, a mantra in his head. He tilted his head forward, closed the gap between their lips, and immediately lost himself in the pure bliss that accompanied that one, simple kiss.

Ginny wrapped her arms around him tighter, his solid body beside her the only thing keeping her upright. More. It was the only perceptible thought in her mind. The only thing she wanted.

Something shattered in the commonroom behind them, and Harry jerked away. He looked down at her with wide, confused eyes. Ginny looked down. She knew what he was going to do next, and she didn't think she was going to fight it this time. Didn't know if she could.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, his voice hoarse. "You'll get hurt."

Ginny shut her eyes tightly, and turned away from him, "Just go, Harry, while I'm letting you."

He looked at her painfully for a moment longer before turning away and walking slowly away. She refused to watch him go- refused to accept that he was actually walking away. He would come back, she told herself. He wasn't going away from her forever. Just until he got over his idiotic heroism. Then he would be back, and things would be perfect.

She sighed and put her fingers lightly to her lips. She could still feel his kiss, and although he had gone, it still gave her hope. It whispered promises of what was to come.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Harry was in turmoil. The tumult in his mind made any thoughts other than those of what just occurred impossible. He lost control, didn't think about what he was doing. Not surprising for him, of course, but couldn't he have controlled himself just this once? But he didn't, as per his luck. And he set himself up for a tremendous fall. Worse yet, he was most likely taking Ginny with him.

Ginny…

She didn't understand. Ginny was a creature of impulsion, passion. She was spirited and headstrong, and couldn't see past her feelings toward Harry enough to realize that perhaps they were a bad thing. He couldn't justify what he had just done to her, couldn't explain to her why it was wrong. He could barely explain it to himself. It was really more feeling than an actual explanation.

How could he make her understand the sheer dread that welled within him when he thought of all the deaths of those whom loved him? How could he express the terror that coursed through his body when he considered that she may one day join them? It was enough to stop him in his tracks, to make his blood run cold. As cliché as it was, it was the truth. He cared about Ginny too much to be with her.

Or was he just protecting himself? In separating from her, was he really just building a fortification around himself, in case of tragedy? Was it selfish? Would he care if it was? He couldn't go through the heartache again. He had seen too many deaths, too many people he knew and loved, gone because of his existence. Each time it shredded a little piece of him. Ginny- losing her would mean losing himself as well. Perhaps the subconscious part of his mind was holding her at bay, wishing desperately that then it wouldn't hurt as much when her time came. Perhaps that part of him had accepted her inevitable death, and was doing all that it could to save himself from the pain. So then he was selfish.

But he had a right to be, didn't he? All that self-sacrificing he did for the world on a daily basis, it owed him a moment or two of selfishness every now and then.

Harry sat down in a hollow at the base of a gnarled old tree off a short distance from the shore of the lake. There was a slight dip in its trunk, and Harry reclined into it. He closed his eyes, blocking out the sights around him to make it easier to think. Instantly Ginny's face was swimming upon his closed lids. His eyes shot open, and he satisfied himself with gazing unfocusedly at the scant canopy above him.

His friends kept mentioning to him how different things were in the past. The people weren't fervently scanning the obituaries; no one was in a state of constantly looking over their shoulders as they walked down the street. The threat of Voldemort was mostly unknown to the students here. Yes, he was out there, murdering as he always did, but the students were free to be children.

Different… yet still so much the same. _He_ was still the same, after all. Even if it was safe to be with Ginny here, who he was wouldn't allow him to. He protected people, and he was positive that was what he was doing for Ginny. They were in a different time, but they were still themselves.

And they didn't even know when they would be going back. What if he gave in to the safety of his parents' time, he and Ginny were allowed to develop their relationship, and then the second they returned to their time she was ripped away? How could he be expected to live through that? They didn't know _what _they were changing, or what they were going to go back to. For all Harry knew, the second he woke up in the future he could look over and see Ginny's bleeding corpse.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut to block out the image he suddenly saw before him. He shook his head, slowly, back and forth as if just by telling the world no would make it all better. It didn't, of course, but that picture of Ginny dead was now burned in his mind and it was more than enough to convince him that what he was deciding was the right thing… but it certainly didn't erase the memory of her lips on his.

Letting out a frustrated groan, he grabbed handfuls of hair and hung his head, a picture of pained confusion.

"You have no idea how many people I've seen here in that exact same position."

Harry's head jerked up, inadvertently pulling his hair as he did so. Wormtail was leaning against the tree beside him, worn leather book in his hand, looking down at him sympathetically.

"It seems it's a good place to go to when you're having a bad day."

Harry continued to stare up at him, not saying a thing, not sure if he trusted himself to do so.

"Um." Wormtail shifted a bit uncomfortably before sitting down beside Harry, shifting his book from his grasp to his lap. "Do you… d'you want to talk about it?"

The look that Harry gave him implied that he was perhaps the craziest person within the entire school, beating even Dumbledore and Slughorn.

Wormtail shrugged, obviously interpreting Harry's look correctly. "Sometime it helps, is all. I mean, Sirius and James rant to Remus and I all the time, and then they're better after that. I just thought it might work for you too."

Harry didn't know what came over him. The only thing that registered was that here was someone offering their ear, and the feelings rampaging around inside Harry were ready to boil over any second. The offer proved to be their catalyst. The next thing he knew he was venting all his worries to Wormtail, not monitoring what he was saying at all. He told him how much he cared for Ginny, how he couldn't bear to see her hurt, or to live with himself if anything happened to her. He described how he thought he was being selfish, and didn't want to think of himself as so, but if it helped Ginny he didn't care. He ended recounting what had just occurred between the two of them in the common room earlier, and then fell silent.

Wormtail said nothing for a good few minutes. When he finally spoke, it was in a hushed voice, "You know, I think that if she cares about you as much as you obviously do for her, she won't care about the danger, whatever danger it may be that's worrying you- only being with you."

Harry shook his head, staring down at a line of ants on the ground. "I know she doesn't care. She's told me she hasn't. But that doesn't make me any less concerned about what happens to her, or how much it hurts when it does."

"I think you should tell her," Wormtail said matter-of-factly. "She should know why you're running away from her- why you're hurting her."

"I've…I've told her before…I think." Harry couldn't remember now. He had tried to explain to her, right? He had told her all the thoughts coursing through his brain before, hadn't he? And…had she understood? He couldn't recall…

"Tell her again," Wormtail replied, shrugging. "Just like you told me. She couldn't help but to understand after all that. I don't even know about what danger you're talking about, or your past, and I understand."

Harry nodded, still entranced by the marching ants. Was this really Wormtail sitting beside him? Was it truly the person who, in several years time, would lie on the floor before him, begging for his life to be spared? How did things like that happen? It all seemed so strange, so distant. Perhaps what Hermione had said was true. The person beside him, quietly listening to all his troubles was not the same man who betrayed his parents. He could befriend him, make an impression on him. He could, if he tried, maybe even change this man's entire future. If he put forth a little effort, he could do it. And he had helped him just now by listening, as much as Harry loathed admitting it. He owed him a favor now.

His gaze shifted onto the teen beside him, and to the worn brown book lying, tied with a blue ribbon on his lap. "So…what is that?"

Wormtail- No, Harry had always thought of 'Wormtail' as an evil betrayer, who had caused his parents' deaths and godfather's imprisonment. This person sitting beside him was not that man yet. He was Peter. _Peter_ was looking down at his lap, a slight blush on his cheeks. "It's my drawing notebook," he muttered.

Harry was curious, he would readily admit that. He had never heard of Peter's ability to draw, and his embarrassment toward them made Harry all the more curious. "May I look at them?"

Peter didn't move for a moment, obviously mulling it over in his mind. Harry could practically see the gears turning. If Harry didn't like what he saw, he could easily run off to the other Marauders and tell them about it, and they could all have a grand old time mocking him. Did he want to risk that?

"Please?" Harry urged, and Peter gave in. Sighing, he handed to book over to Harry.

Carefully, Harry untied the ribbon and opened the book, revealing drawings on pristine white paper.

Peter's pictures all had one thing in common: they were drawn either with pastels of charcoal. The first few pages were filled with random, half finished sketches of people, various places in the common room, trees, and eyes. 'Does he ever finish anything?' Harry asked himself. But his thoughts were stopped short when he turned to the next page.

A child, perhaps seven or eight, sat on her knees on the right side of the paper. She looked so realistic that Harry couldn't keep a soft gasp from escaping. Drawn in charcoal, completely black and white, she wore a pair of overalls with one unbuckled strap and grass stains on her knees. A large, floppy sun hat was on her head, lightly shadowing her face, but a smudge of dirt could still be seen across one round cheek. The girl was leaning forward, her muddy hands patting down a small mound of dirt in between a few ragged looking weeds. A miniature trowel, caked completely in dirt, was beside the girl, lying next to a small, flowered watering can. A short distance ahead of the girl, on the left side of the picture, was an apple core, shaded so that it appeared it was browning slightly. Two black seeds were on the ground beside it, and in an elegant, flowing script across the bottom was the title "Innocence".

Entranced, Harry turned the page, for a moment forgetting about the loathing he felt toward Peter and simply enjoying what he had created.

There was no object in the background on the next one. It was merely a girl dressed in a simple sundress, spinning around in bare feet with her arms spread out to the side. Her face was tilted upward, her eyes closed lightly, and her mouth laughing. Her hair fanned out around her from the momentum of the spin. The picture was done entirely in soft, pale colors, and the girl was no exception. She was colored with pale yellow, cream, and peach, except for her hair, which was a hazy, vibrant red. Her left, shoeless foot was the only one on the ground, and even then only the toes were touching. She stood in a small puddle of water, waves racing out from where her toes touched. Behind her, all was a watery blue-grey, and around and upon her raindrops were falling. A few clinging to her shoulders and arms were reflecting her hair, and several were falling very close to the foreground of the picture. Those were colored a very pale blue, drawn with great care and accuracy, and reflected a small blob of pale flesh tones and red: the girl. Written on the bottom in the same lettering as the picture before was the word "Freedom".

By that time Harry had all but forgotten who was sitting beside him. He turned the page, hoping to find that there was more.

The first thing Harry noticed was the background. It was a row of trees, but they were blurred, out of focus, and the edges ran together. They were colored multiple shades of watery green. The main focus of the picture, in contrast, was sharply detailed and black and white, appearing to have been sketched with charcoal. A long dead tree with few branches and ragged clumps of bark clinging to it was positioned slightly to the left of the center. Deep shadows flitted across it, and a pool of calm water lay in a hollow at its base, reflecting a blurry image of the tree's trunk. A man, also without color, stood facing the tree, his forehead leaning against its nearly bark-less trunk, his eyes closed, and a desolate, world-weary expression across his face. He wore creased pants and a long-sleeved shirt, both impeccably neat except for a small stain near the bottom of his pant leg and a slight tear beneath his arm, visible because his left hand was raised and resting gently on the tree. Small rivulets of water traced paths down his face, fleeing from his matted hair. On the bottom in that neat, flourishing lettering quite unlike Peter's usual writing was the word "Loneliness".

Harry stopped then, one hand tucked beneath the page, ready to turn it, but unable to do so as Harry stared, transfixed. The picture struck something within him. He stared at it, and felt as if he were watching himself. Loneliness. That truly was what had felt throughout a good portion of his life. He could have easily been the man standing beside that depressingly scraggly tree. He could _be_ that picture.

Perhaps… could it be Peter also? Could he have drawn this with his own self in mind? Hiding behind the Marauders all the time, afraid to be himself, loneliness could easily be his second nature. Harry could easily picture Harry beneath the same tree they sat under now, closing his eyes briefly then drawing his soul out onto the blank piece of paper in front of him.

Harry didn't go any farther. He closed the book gently, retied the ribbon, and handed it back to Peter. Perhaps they were more alike than Harry had ever considered. There was a real person beneath that idol of Harry's hatred. That scared betrayer had been a scared, lonely child once, and now Harry knew it. He looked sidelong at the teen who was watching him with worry, and knew that he would never be able to think of him the same again.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

They sat in silence for a long time, Harry and Peter. One nearly shaking with worry, the other too lost in his thoughts to notice. The minutes ticked by, unbearably long for one and unnoticeable, shadowed in thought for the other.

'What is he thinking? Did he like it? Maybe he's just trying to think up a way to tell me that the drawings are rubbish. Or maybe he's thinking about how he'll tell the others! I hope not. This is the one thing I have away from the Marauders. If they think I'm horrible at it, or if they think it's dumb, or… I'd have to stop. They wouldn't like me, and they're the only ones who have ever been friendly towards me. What would happen if I lost them? Right, that's it. If he goes to the others and they laugh, that's the second I put down my sketchbook. Giving up drawing's better than giving them up.' Peter couldn't silence his thoughts for a moment.

The silence stretched, more and more until it was taut. And then it was ripped in half- destroyed by a single word.

"So…?"

Harry's head jerked around so that he was looking at Peter. The sudden noise had shocked him, pulled him roughly from his musings. "So what?"

Peter winced, obviously thinking Harry's reaction was a very bad sign. He opened his mouth once, twice, trying to talk. He couldn't force the words out. So much for Gryffindor bravery. He couldn't even work up the courage to ask if somebody liked his drawings! Words wouldn't come for him, so he simply motioned to the book lying on his lap.

Realization hit Harry. He searched back through his recent memories. He saw the pictures, was awed by them and their quality, and gave the book back to Peter after seeing Loneliness. But had he said a word to the poor boy? No… no, he hadn't. The self esteem-less teen must have taken that as a hard hit below the belt. Well, Harry had decided to make friends with him, hadn't he? Might as well start now, make amends for the silence that had probably driven Peter nearly to insanity.

"They're amazing, honestly. I had a friend back at Ho-home, Dean, and I always thought he was good with a quill. Now whenever I see anything he's drawn, or when I think about it, I'm pretty sure that I'll only be able to think, 'Meh, it's alright'. Yours are… you're talented. I honestly don't think I've ever known anyone who could draw like you."

Peter was looking down, up, around, anywhere but at Harry in embarrassment. "You- you really think so? I've always been doing it, ever since I was little. I never thought I was that good at it."

"That's because you have no self esteem," Harry said matter-of-factly. Peter finally looked at him, his eyes wide in shock. Harry grinned lightly at him. "Don't worry, though, we can fix that. The first step is you accepting how amazing of an artist you are."

"It is?" he asked, the wide-eyed, deer in the headlights look yet to leave his face. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he had never really received praise before, and on the extremely rare occasion where he had, he cherished it.

Nodding decisively, Harry replied, "It is. Now, open up the book." Peter simply stared at Harry.

Harry adopted his 'I'm-the-Chosen-One-and-I'm-going-to-save-your-worthless-life-and-I'd-rahter-not-deal-with-your-uncertanties-so-do-what-I-ask' look. "I'm not going to tell you a second time, Peter. Now, open up the book."

Slowly, Peter draped the blue ribbon off to the side and opened up to the first page.

Harry nodded. "Good. Now, these are only bits and pieces, but the quality of them is amazing. Go on, look. Tell me what you think."

Peter's gaze shifted from Harry to his sketchbook. His eyes darted across the pages, sharp eyes taking in ever stroke that made up the half-finished sketches. "I think…" he was quiet for a moment, lightly chewing on his bottom lip. "I think that that little part of the common room is all wrong. The chair looks like it's waiting to swallow you up. And the shading on the table makes it look like it's tilting up…"

Harry sighed in frustration. Already this was proving to be an impossible task. "Okay, okay. I get it. Every artist's his own critic. Let's just skip to some of the finished drawing okay? How about the one of the girl gardening? Go find her."

Peter turned the pages carefully until he came across Innocence.

"Now," Harry said calmly, patiently, as if speaking to a toddler. "That's good, right?"

Peter studied it for a moment in much the same way as he had the previous page. Slowly, a smile spread across his features. "Yeah… it is good! The little girl is done almost right. Her nose is a little wrong, I think, but, yeah. She's good! I'm good! I drew her!"

For the first time in probably his entire life, Peter smiled a smile that said he was proud of himself. He turned to the next picture, to Freedom, and studied it as well. "This came out just like I wanted it to!" He exclaimed in excitement. "The colors, the girl, it looks like it did in my mind. I like this one, I think."

Harry's smile joined Peter's. It seemed as if he could get through to Peter. All it took was a little nudge in the right direction, and Peter was as proud of himself, and perhaps close to as confident, as he should be. It was as if he had been waiting his whole life for someone to smile and say good job, and now that Harry had, Peter accepted it instantly.

That was one step in the right direction, Harry mentally congratulated himself. If Peter could be proud, if he could be happy with himself, then he didn't need to buddy up with the biggest kid on the playground. He wouldn't need to run off to Voldemort simply because he was as confident as Peter wished he could be. Next step: strengthen the bond between the Marauders, and instill a sense of loyalty in Peter. Make the idea of betraying a friend sickening. It would take work, Harry knew. It couldn't possibly be as easy as making Peter believe that he had talent; that was something he had wanted to believe all along, and was therefore easier to convince him.

"You know what I think?" Harry asked, looking sidelong at the teen beside him. "Your friends should be able to see these. I mean, they've been your best friends for six and a half years. You should want to show them these."

Peter's smile vanished, his new appreciation of his talent disappeared, and the old Wormtail came crashing back down. "What if they don't like it?"

Harry glared at the sky. Whatever God existed up there, be he Fate, Zeus, Allah, or Yahweh, was incredibly cruel to him. Just as he was making progress with Peter, this has to happen. Taking a deep breath, trying to restore his former patience, he said, "Peter- what did we just discuss? What did we just spend a whole ten minutes figuring out?"

"My- my drawings are good?"

"Are you asking me if they're good?" Harry snapped, "Because I've already told you what I think of them, and you told me what you think. Now, what was it?"

"My drawings _are_ good," Peter muttered, staring at the ants in the dirt. "They're good, I should show them to the others."

Harry smiled in relief, glad that he wouldn't have to go through the entire process again. He stood up, brushed himself off, and offered a hand to Peter. "Alright then, what are you waiting for? I'll walk with you up to the common room, and you can show everybody what you've been doing with your life."

Peter grasped the offered hand, and together they made their way back into the castle.

* * *

Ginny sat on the couch beside Hermione, her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. The older girl was watching her sympathetically as she retold what had occurred between her and Harry. She hadn't wanted to, she had wanted to keep that little incident bottled up until she and Harry were together again, but Hermione had returned, given Ginny one look, and immediately knew something was wrong. James and Sirius had gravitated over (Remus was still upstairs doing homework), and soon enough they all knew what had happened.

"Oh, Gin," Hermione murmured, wrapping an arm around her friend. "I'm sorry."

Ginny shook her head. "Don't be. I've thought about it, whether I should be happy or sad with it, and there's no way I'll let it upset me. No way I'll let the fact that he ran off again make me all mopey and depressed. I refuse to let myself be like that. I'm going to take this as a sign that he really misses what we had, and sooner or later he'll come back to me."

Sirius stood then, clapping wildly and whistling loudly. When he finally stopped and sat back down again, he was wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. "That's beautiful. Just the spirit. Keep it up, Gin; you just keep that positive attitude." He threw in a choked voice for good measure, just to keep his act.

James smiled and shook his head at his friend's antics. "At least you got your kiss," he muttered half heartedly.

Sirius rolled his eyes, leaned across the table between him and the girls, and told them, "James asked Lily out to the Hogsmeade weekend just a little while ago. She said no, of course. That's what's got him in this funk."

Hermione nodded, her eyes becoming distant and her face morphing into its deep thinking look. She gazed off into nothing for no more than half a minute before shaking her head, entwining her hands, and saying in a very businesslike manner, "Right, listen to me, James. You want Lily, and it's obvious you really like her, so I'm going to help you out."

"_Hermione_!" Ginny cried out, aghast. "What- what are you- _are you mad_?!"

Hermione glared at the redhead beside her. "Calm down, Ginny. He likes her too much, it had to happen sooner or later."

"Maybe it should happen _later_," Ginny replied pointedly.

"Or _maybe_," Hermione said, her voice just as tight as her 'sister's, "it should happen _now_. I'm sick of seeing his pathetic attempts. He needs help if he ever wants it to happen at _all_. Got it?"

The two glared at each other for several moments, both incredibly strong willed and neither willing to back down. But Ginny was no match for Hermione after she had thought everything through and was positive that what she was doing was for the better. The younger girl looked down, shifting her glare to a mitten on the table. "Fine. Do what you want. But I'm not going to be a part of it."

"I didn't ask you to be," Hermione replied, sounding incredibly aloof.

For the next ten minutes, Hermione tutored James on how to ask Lily out the correct way, James made a fool of himself with he limited knowledge of the female species, Sirius hummed perhaps two dozen different songs, and Ginny remained sitting sulkily, half of her listening to Hermione while the other half remembered kissing Harry.

"I'm begging you, James, tell me you remember all this," Hermione said at the conclusion of their lesson.

"Be nice, be sincere, don't be a prat, pranks on girls you like are bad ideas, right?"

Hermione sighed and slumped down in her seat. "More or less. She just came down with Elaina. Go try."

A determined glint was alight in James's eye as he crossed the common room to the green eyed girl at the bottom of the stairs.

Sirius watched him go, humming a slow, mournful tune. "Dead man walking."

* * *

"YES!"

Harry and Peter exchanged curious looks. They stood outside the Fat Lady's portrait, password ready on their tongues, as the joyful whooping from within reached their ears.

"What do you think's up with that?" Peter asked, tilting his head toward the hidden common room.

Harry shrugged. "Only one way to figure it out. Apple Pie." (James _was_ the Head Boy. He _was_ allowed to come up with passwords.)

The second they entered the common room, the sight of James and Sirius waltzing around the common room met their eyes. Lily and Elaina stood off in one corner, Lily covering her mouth to hide her amusement and Elaina on the ground with laughter. Hermione was on one of the couches, a very self satisfied gleam in her eye while Ginny merely watched the scene with mild interest.

"She said yes!" James yelled as he spun Sirius.

"Then why are you dancing with _me_!" Sirius protested, but continued to dance all the same.

Mid step, James noticed Harry and Peter in the common room with them. He immediately abandoned Sirius and ran over to the two of them, grabbed their hands, and spun around a few times before letting them go. "Guess what!" He exclaimed, eyes bright and joyful. Without waiting for an answer, James continued, "She said yes! I asked Lily if she'd go with me to Hogsmeade this weekend, and she said _yes_!"

Harry and Peter exchanged glances. Peter smiled and set his sketchbook down on a nearby table. Harry understood. Now as not the time to show them- let James have his moment.

"What's going on?" a voice called from the stairs. Remus had emerged, and stood halfway down the stairs, peering in shock, entertainment, and disgust at the scene before him. "I was doing my homework you know. Insanely massive essay on the history of Goblin wars in the entire world and their effect on government today? Or perhaps you had forgotten."

James ignored his friend's sour attitude. "Lily said, yes, Remus! See her- right over there!" He pointed happily to Lily, who was now five different shades of red. "She said yes! We're going to Hogsmeade together!"

Remus dropped his quill and immediately jumped the last eight stairs. "Yes!" he yelled, throwing his fist into the air. He landed in a crouch, a sly grin across his face. "You!" He called, pointing at Sirius. "You owe me twelve Galleons!"

Sirius's jaw dropped as he looked from James to Lily to Remus. Slowly, wordlessly, he sunk to the ground in defeat.

* * *

Three days later, a very large, unexpected group of people could be seen making their way to Hogsmeade. As it turned out, Lily had agreed to go out with James on one condition: They could spend their Hogsmeade weekend together as long as their friends were around. It was really to see if they could spend a friendly afternoon together. If all went well, Lily had agreed to go on a real date with him. And so Lily, James, Remus, Peter, Sirius, Elaina, Arnau, Fee, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all left the school together.

Halfway to Hogsmeade, the majority of the group dropped back a bit, to give Lily and James some time to themselves. It had gone well so far (even if it only had been ten minutes), and the friends were happy to allow the couple to enjoy each other's company.

"Oh, I like Quidditch well enough," Lily was saying, laughing at the shocked look on James's face. "It's addicting, actually. The excitement, the danger, and of course the competition. I remember thinking I would be bored out of my mind the first time I went off to a Quidditch game, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but the second I got there Able was attacked by a bludger and Antony made this _incredible_ pass with the Quaffle. I was hooked. It replaces the football games I used to watch with my dad, I think. You're an amazing player, you know. Not professional, mind you, but amazing for a school team. Black too. He's done well coaching."

"Amazing, huh?" James asked, shooting a sidelong look at Lily, complete with self-satisfied smirk. "And why haven't you ever told me this before?"

Lily tilted her head back and laughed loudly. "And risk fueling your ego? I think not!"

"Well, now you've done it," James replied, elbowing her lightly. "You've made your fatal mistake, Miss Evans. I know you think I'm, what was it, oh yes- _amazing_. You can't take it back. Admit it; you've been pining for me, and my amazing Quidditch ability."

Lily laughed lightly. "Never!"

Behind the two, Fee was smiling warmly. "Who would ever have thought those two would make a cute couple?"

Harry, Hermione, and Remus all raised their hands, looked at each other, and smiled.

Elaina tilted her head to the side, studying the couple in front of them. "I think they really could make it, you know? I'm not talking soul mate or anything here, but they could have a good thing going if they let it happen."

Arnau nodded in agreement, smiling happily for his best friend.

"Well," Fee said brusquely, "I don't think I need to be here, do you? You nine just keep trailing them, and I'm going to go get a new quill. My old one's been shredded to pieces by my roommate's cat."

"Have fun," Elaina responded distantly, already deep in conversation with Arnau and Sirius about the couple in front of them. Fee smiled, rolled her eyes, and made her way to the stationary shop a block away.

No more than ten minutes later, an ear shattering scream resounded through the bustling streets of Hogsmeade. It took no more than half a second for the group of friends to respond. Without thinking, all of them rushed down the street toward where the scream emanated from- toward the stationary shop.

A group of three Death Eaters was there, black cloaks billowing in the breeze that had seemed so cheerful before. Fee was among them, pressed up against the wall by one of the Death Eater's wand. He kept her there, his wand at her throat and his free hand resting beside her face. The two others stood beside him, facing the street, their wands drawn as well.

"Just give us the necklace, girl!" the Death Eater with his wand trained on Fee called out harshly in a deep, scratchy voice. "That's all we'll need. Hand it over nice and calm like, and we'll leave you be. We may even let you go without marking your pretty face."

Fee began to sob, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione charged immediately, wands drawn. Ginny was half a second behind them, not having the protecting people reflexes the other three had developed in their travels. The rest of the group followed a few seconds after Ginny.

"Hey, Harvey!" The Death Eater on the right called out when he saw the charging teens. "Looks like we got ourselves a bit of a rescue! Should be fun."

"We're outnumbered, idiot!" the third Death Eater, female, called as she shot a curse at Ron. He ducked it gracefully and continued running. "Grab the necklace and let's go!"

The first Death Eater, the one pinning Fee, looked over his shoulder briefly. Spells were being shot off vigorously now as all eleven tried to get to Fee. Growling, he swiped at the necklace, only to find his fist coming in contact with… solid air?

"It's got a warding charm on it!" He called out angrily. The grunts of his companions, desperately trying to fend off the attack, were all that reached him. He glanced back again just in time to see the female fall due to combined jinxes from Hermione and Ginny. Harry was dueling the second Death Eater, who proved to be incredibly cunning, Arnau, Peter, Elaina, and Sirius were unmoving on the ground, and Lily, James, and Remus were charging.

Fee took advantage of his preoccupation and swiftly kneed him in the groin. With a muffled 'oof', he fell to the ground. She risked one terrified look at him before running desperately over to her friends, tears making her vision blurry.

A joint effort between Harry and Ron finally felled the second Death Eater, and they looked up just in time to see what was happening. Fee was running toward them, slower than usual due to her blurry vision. The Death Eater behind her had risen shakily, his wand clenched in white knuckled hands. He dove at the running girl, and she, taken unaware, was left without a ward to protect her.

"No!" several voices called out together, desperate. But they were in vain. The Death Eater had his arms wrapped around Fee, and in less than a second he, Fee, and Ravenclaw's pendant had disappeared, leaving nothing behind save Fiona's left shoe.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"_So this is where it __**truly**__ begins. __**This**__ is where they make a decision. Go on with their plan? Change the past, and perhaps the future as well?" _Time sat glaring at the Game board, arms crossed across his chest and muttering darkly.

Fate closed his eyes briefly before speaking to the other Player. "**You know you and I have no influence on their choices. They have free will for a reason**."

"_I'm aware of that! Bit it's an incredible hindrance. One false step and my Game plan could shatter around me." _

"**In that we have the same problem," **Fate replied sourly. "**This round of the Game is entirely dependent on their choice. Which of us will win it?"**

* * *

**They had sat in the headmaster's office for nearly an hour, retelling those five minutes in Hogsmeade. Lily was inconsolable, and in her fear and shock had allowed James to hold her as she wept. Arnau was shaking uncontrollably, and Elaina's eyes were distant, unseeing. They were all walking back to the common room now, with promises of homework exemption and Dumbledore's assurance that they'd have Fee back with them soon.**

Harry knew better. Fiona was going to die, at the hands of Voldemort himself. Her murder would turn what had protected her for so long, her pendant, into Voldemort's protection against death. From warding one person to another. His mother's best friend was going to die within the night, and now that he knew her, there was no way he was going to allow it to happen.

He, Ron, and Hermione were behind all the others as they traveled back up to the tower. Their pace was slow, their thoughts all roiling with confusion. They came to a hallway, and Harry darted off into it. Hermione and Ron followed him, barely hearing his muttered, "Room of Requirement. We need to talk."

Up ahead, Remus stopped dead, his heightened senses flaring as he noticed three people who should be with them take a detour.

* * *

The Room of Requirement was furnished dark and uncomfortably, as per Harry's mood. He paced back and forth, footsteps echoing in the stone walled room. Hermione silently asked the Room for a change in seating options and sat down on the newly available armchair, waiting for Harry to speak.

Finally, without preamble, Harry spun on his two friends, crossed his arms, and told them, "We have to get her."

Hermione sighed. She knew he would want this. "We can't, Harry. You know that."

Beside her, Ron nodded sadly. He had gotten along with Fee better than either of the other two, and was probably feeling her loss the hardest. "Her death makes that Horcrux."

"_Why?!_" Harry yelled, his booming voice echoing for several seconds before fading into silence. Harry let the silence hang for a moment before continuing, this time with his deathly quiet, unbelievably angry voice. "_Why _can't we save her? So in the past it was her murder that Voldemort used to split his soul. So what? There are other people! There are hundreds of people! He'll just use one of those."

"Harry-," Hermione started cautiously. Volatile Harry was not something to take lightly.

"I'm not going to let her die!" Harry interrupted. "Not if I know I can save her!"

Hermione was out of the chair now, glaring daggers at her best friend. Her voice raised to meet his. "But you _can't!_ She's _supposed_ to die! We've already said it before; Voldemort uses her death to make that Horcrux!"

"And I've said it before too! He'll use someone else! He'll have no choice! We're supposed to be changing things! What have we done so far? Spent time buddying up with Peter! We don't even know if that plan will work! This is something we can change. We'll get her back-,"

"And he'll come back for her!" Sparks shot out of her wand inadvertently, burning small holes on the carpet. "He wants to kill off the last of Ravenclaw's line so he'll be the last descendant of the Founders left alive."

In the background, Ron shrank back in his seat a little. Hermione and Harry, both equally livid at the other, was terrifying.

"He'll find someone else," Harry repeated stiffly.

Hermione scoffed. "I suppose you'll want him to find some other object for the Horcrux too."

Instantly, Harry shook his head. "No. That pendant was the only thing of Ravenclaw's we could track down. It will have to be 'forgotten' when we escape."

"When we escape? Harry! We're not going!"

"Fine! _We_ won't go! But you can't stop me. With or without you, I'm going."

"Harry!" Ron spoke up for the first time since Harry's and Hermione's argument broke out. "You can't! You'll be killed without help."

"Well who's going to help me?" Harry snapped at Ron, but his eyes never left Hermione.

She was silent for a moment, searching for more of an argument. When she found one, it snapped our across the silence like a whip. "What of that clue etched into the pendant? Remember that? It was added on sometime recently, and it was what led us to figuring out how to destroy the Horcruxes. What if Fee was the one who put it there? What if she figured it out while waiting to be killed, and etched it into her pendant? If we get her out of there, she won't create it, and we'll _never_ find out how to destroy the Horcruxes in our time."

There was a pause while her comment sunk in. Harry seemed to calm down slightly while he thought, and after the calm there came the excitement. A slight grin, and he was speaking again. "Or what if _we're_ supposed to leave the clue? We all remember what it looked like. _We_ could leave it!"

Hermione arched an eyebrow. Harry's bad mood seemed to have dissipated, but hers was much more persistent. "Oh? When? Between fighting Death Eaters and running for our lives?"

"Yes!" Harry's eyes were positively sparkling now, a sure sign that he had an insane, most like incredibly dangerous plan brewing. "Or maybe between saving Fee and fighting Death Eaters. Either way it doesn't really matter.

He seemed to have succeeded in accomplishing the life-long goal of several students in their time's Hogwarts- stumping Hermione Granger. "_What?"_

"We'll freeze time!"

And that's when the wheels started turning. Both Ron and Hermione realized what he was talking about at the same time. Ron let out a long 'oh' and a look of excitement similar to Harry's spread across his face. Hermione was much less gung-ho.

"B- but, Harry! I haven't even tested that spell!" She had developed a liking to spell technique while they were traveling, and stopped to get books devoted to it whenever she could. Her trunk, even when shrunk, outweighed Harry's and Ron's easily, but she continued to add to it. After nearly a month of studying, she decided to try and create her own spells. They were simple at first, like changing a T-shirt's color, until gradually they became as complex as freezing time.

Harry nodded confidently. "It will work. Your temporary telekinesis charm worked perfectly the first time you tried it. You're amazing when it comes to spells, and you know it."

"The time one is much more difficult!" Hermione protested. "I have to find the right combinations of variations of words to temporarily slow down time until it practically _stops!_ Do you know how long it took the man who created the time turner to figure it out? _Fifteen years!_ And you're asking me to do it in one night?"

"More like two hours, actually," Ron put in. Hermione whipped around to shoot her most lethal glare at him. He gulped, and returned to slumping mutely in his chair.

"The time turner controls _days_ of time," Harry said, "and with them you're actually placing a physical object in a time that's already happened. All you're trying to do is make time go slower, or make us go faster, so that it _looks_ like time has stopped. It's really not, right? See? It's much simpler."

"Even if that's true, there's still tons of questions that need to be researched. Does it work better wordlessly? What types of wand movements are best? _How long does it last?_"

Harry nodded. "Right. How long was it Ron said we had to figure this out? Two hours?"

"Harry, no, hold on! I haven't even agreed to go with you!"

Harry sighed. "But Ron's with me, right?" He glanced over at the redhead who nodded, avoiding his girlfriend's fiery frown. "See? Now could you really go and let your two favorite people go fight Death Eaters without your help?"

Hermione had caved and he knew it. She may not like the idea, but she'd never let them go into such a dangerous place alone. "Two hours? That's really all I have?"

Harry nodded. "Go find yourself a corner of the Room. Ron and I will figure out how we'll get there."

Hermione sighed heavily, closed her eyes and shook her head, then walked over to a magically encased area of the Room that had just appeared at her need. Ron watched her walk away then shifted his attention to Harry. "So, how are we getting there?"

"I've got it all figured out," Harry replied, sitting down on Hermione's vacated armchair. "We know that the pendant is going to be hidden at the Riddle House. We also know that Voldemort murders his Horcrux victims _where_ he wants that Horcrux to be hidden. Thinks it makes it more powerful or something."

"Right," Ron nodded. "So all we've got to do is figure out how to get to Little Hangleton before he murders her at midnight."

"Which means we need to be there several hours earlier, to bypass whatever he does to prepare her for murder at 'the sacred hour', was what I believe he called it."

"You gave Hermione two hours to work with her spell," Ron continued where his friend left off. "That puts us at about four o'clock. When do you think he'll start preparing her?"

"Probably around six," Harry replied. "Those cleansing rituals Hermione read about took a long time. But we should try to have her out of there by five thirty at the latest, in case Voldemort's one of those 'don't leave anything to the last minute' types of people. So that's, what? An hour and half to get there and get her out?"

Ron nodded, "But how are we getting out of the castle? You know Dumbledore has security up all over this place, just in case the Death Eaters come back."

"I told you I thought about it, didn't I? We take the Invisibility Cloak, probably James's too, just to completely avoid getting caught. Take the Marauders Map to avoid the extra patrols, sneak out to the Whomping Willow, and once we get to the Shrieking Shack apparate to the Riddle House. Simple."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "_Steal_ the Marauders Map? Out of the Marauders' dorm? You're crazy."

"Of all the parts of my plan you could call me crazy for, you choose that one? Besides, we're not stealing it, really. It's technically mine, after all."

"Yeah, in twenty years."

Harry rolled his eyes at his friend. "If you want to use that argument, how can I be stealing something when I technically don't exist?"

Ron was quiet, trying to work out what his friend had said. "Just- go get the cloaks and Map. I'll stay here and make sure Hermione doesn't blow up the Room."

Harry nodded and went to turn the knob on the door. It was already open. Strange. Cautiously, Harry poked his head out into the corridor. There was no one there. He let out a little sigh of relief and began to make his way toward the Gryffindor tower. That's when he heard it.

"You take one step, and my wand's at your throat."

Harry froze. Death Eaters? No, couldn't be. Hogwarts's shields were still strong, they couldn't have gotten in. Then who-? He recognized the voice. Sighing, he turned to face his challenger.

"Have you taken to eavesdropping now, Remus?"

Remus stepped out from behind a nearby suit of armor. "Eavesdropping? No. I prefer to think of it as gathering the truth." His voice had a hint of a growl to it. Was this what werewolves sounded like when they were upset around the full moon? Harry was suddenly glad he hadn't gotten Remus this mad at him before. It really was incredibly intimidating.

"You had better start explaining, Harry."

* * *

A/N: Hmm. You know, originally I had had this chapter continue on quite a while longer. But I like this ending, don't you :D 'Til next time, then.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Harry sighed. What was he supposed to do? Remus had obviously heard quite a bit of what had been discussed earlier in the Room of Requirement; the wand pointed steadily at his heart was enough to figure that out. Could he obliviate the man he had come to think of as an uncle? Could he forgive himself for that once they were back in the future?

But what else was he supposed to do? He couldn't have Remus knowing that they were from the future. Who knows what that would do to their future, or even their current present? Hermione hadn't had time to examine this from all angles, figure out if it would be okay to let them know. So that meant he had to obliviate him, didn't it? Hermione obviously wasn't available to study the situation.

Well then, why couldn't Harry? Hermione wasn't the only one who could look at things logically, decide if something was a smart idea. Harry could do it too, couldn't he? Well, there was never a better time to figure out. Right. First things first- find out how much he really did know, then decide if obliviating was the answer.

"Harry?" There was that growl again. It was more evident in Remus's voice this time. Very threatening.

Harry nodded and met the teen's eyes. "How long have you been out here?"

"Long enough," Remus hissed, stepping forward so his wand was pushing into Harry's chest. "Long enough to figure out that you've been lying to us, that you seem to know _everything_ about that filthy murderer who took Fee. You want to start explaining that? _And_ why you think you need to steal our _map_?! How the hell do you _know_ about the map? Explain!"

He really had heard everything. Harry sighed again. He couldn't obliviate Remus and live with himself afterward. That only left explaining. Did he have time? Yes. He had nearly two hours left, and it certainly wouldn't take that long to steal the Map. "Come on in," He said, jerking his head toward the door.

"What is that place?" Remus asked, eyeing the door he had never seen before suspiciously.

"The Room of Requirement. Come and Go Room. Walk past it three times, and you have a room that caters to your every need."

"I've never heard of it before," the suspicion was still heavy in Remus's voice.

Of course he hadn't. If it wasn't on the map, then none of the Marauders know. "I know. We only found it because I knew an extremely chatty house elf. Look, if you want me to explain things, you need to trust me for a second and come on in where we can have a long talk."

The other boy's eyebrows shot up and disappeared beneath his hair. "_Trust_ you? I just find out you've been lying to us the entire time you've been here, you haven't even _explained_ the lie yet, and you expect me to _trust_ you?! You're insane!"

Why was this so difficult? Sure, Remus had every right to be suspicious, be seriously, was it that difficult just to walk into a room? "Okay, fine. I'll walk ahead of you, and you can keep your wand in my back the entire time. Ron and Hermione won't attack you."

Remus remained glaring for several more moments before finally he jerked his want toward the door, a signal for Harry to start walking. The second he turned around, Remus's wand was jabbing straight into his spine, a clear warning.

Ron didn't look up when Harry entered the Room. "Back already, mate? Didn't think taking that taking the Map would be that easy, even for yoooooh." He finally looked up, only to see Remus glaring down at him. "Harry? What exactly's happening?"

Harry slumped down into a chair, leaving the threatening wand pointing into thin air. "He eavesdropped."

Ron's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "Oh no. Hey, Herm-,"

"Don't call her over, Ron," Harry interrupted. "We need her to stay focused on what she's doing. We can handle this, right?"

Ron looked incredibly skeptical. "Right. And how are you planning on doing that?"

"We'll tell him the truth. Take a seat, Remus." Another armchair appeared for him.

"Harry!"

"Well I'm certainly not going to obliviate him, Ron! Do you want to do that to him?" Harry snapped.

Looking away uncomfortable, Ron replied, "You know I can't. But I swear, this is _all_ on your head if Hermione doesn't like it."

"Fine. Remus, just sit down already! The chair isn't going to eat you."

Slowly, Remus sat down in the chair, but didn't allow himself to fully relax. He remained perched on the very end, looking very alert and very uncomfortable. "Alright. Start."

"What do you think?" Harry asked, looking sidelong at Ron. "The blunt approach?"

Ron shrugged. "This really isn't the type of thing you can cushion."

Harry nodded. "You're right. Remus, we- Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and I- we're- we're from… the future."

Silence surrounded them, taut and heavy. Finally, Remus spoke, his voice deathly quiet. "I have a wand pointed at your heart. I have made no indication that I think this a humorous situation. Yet you seem to find it fitting to _joke_. I'm warning you just this once; I am _not_ amused. The truth. Now."

How had Harry thought that it would be that simple? Would _he _have believed it if somebody had told him that they were from the future? Absolutely not. He would need proof. So he should give Remus proof.

"The truth. Alright. This is the truth. We're from twenty years, more or less, in the future. Ron isn't my adopted brother. His name's Ron Weasley, youngest son of Molly and Arthur Weasley. Ginny's his sister. Hermione Granger's a muggleborn. She's the smartest witch at our Hogwarts."

Sparks shot out of Remus's wand. "How do you expect me to believe you? And you failed to mention who _you_ really are in that little introduction of yours."

Harry winced. "That's because I didn't want you to attack me. Will you- will you let me prove that what I'm saying is the truth before I tell you who I really am?"

Remus nodded his head, barely.

Harry took a deep breath, and glanced at Ron, looking for some support. A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "It shouldn't be that hard. You can do it."

"If it isn't that hard, why don't _you_ try?" Harry muttered sourly. "Alright, twenty years in the future… we know you. Remus John Lupin. Er…" he trailed off and glanced back at Ron. "Should I go for the most obvious proof?"

Ron nodded. "Don't know what else you could do."

"You're a werewolf."

Remus dropped his wand in shock. It hit the floor and shot out brown and gold sparks. "How- how did you- you can't…"

"We found out in our third year. You were bitten by Fenrir Greyback when you were little, and you and your parents figured you'd never be allowed into Hogwarts. But Dumbledore had the Whomping Willow put up over a passage out to the Shrieking Shack. You went there every full moon until fifth year when James, Sirius, and Peter learned to be Animagi. Last year Sirius figured it'd be fun to send Snape after you on the full moon, but d- James learned about it and stopped him. Not before he saw you, though. So now Snape knows, but Dumbledore swore him to secrecy."

Remus had yet to reclaim his wand, and his posture on the chair had lost all its stiffness. He was slumped back, mouth open, eyes wide and darting between Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who was still back in the corner waving her wand and muttering. "But there's no way you could have known that," he whispered.

"Unless you told us in the future, or Dumbledore, as he was the one who told me about the incident with Snape."

Remus closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows for a moment, then opened them again. "But- the _future_! How is that even possible?"

Harry shrugged. "We're not one hundred percent sure ourselves. Hermione reckons it was Fate that sent us back here, but we've really got no proof of that."

"So- so this is really true? I don't know how else you could've known about me, and the other three… twenty years! Merlin, that's a long time. I'd be what? Nearly forty! Oh my…"

Harry was looking at him hopefully. "So you believe me?"

"Just until I can think of a better explanation," Remus replied, still skeptical. "Alright, time to tell me who you really are. I haven't forgotten, if that's what you had hoped."

"It kind of was," Harry replied sheepishly. Sweet Merlin, why did _he_ have to be the one who was related to a Marauder? Why couldn't it have been Hermione? Why was it _always_ him? Oh well, prolonging it would only make it worse. "I'm- my name is… Harry- Potter. Harry James Potter."

Harry had expected Remus to react violently. He had expected him to lash out with magic, or even brute force. He hadn't expected the calm, level glare he was receiving now. "You think I'm an idiot, don't you? You think you can shock me into submission, feed me some impossible tale, then try to get me to believe something like _that!_ You're from the future, fine I'll go with it. You're James's _son_ who just _happens_ to land back in his father's final year of Hogwarts? Not likely! Try again. You must be someone absolutely horrible if you want to resort to something like that to hide your identity."

"But it's true! _I_ certainly don't know why we landed here in Mum and Dad's last year. I didn't have any control over it! But what I'm saying is true. James, your best friend, is my father."

"I'm sorry, did you say _Mum_ and Dad?" Remus asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah…my mum's… you're _really_ not going to believe me after this. She's- well, she's Lily."

Now Remus was _laughing!_ Harry scowled. He hated being laughed at.

"Well, you could have picked a more believable pair! Lily and James. Having a child! That's so insane it's hilarious!"

Harry threw his arms into the air. This was impossible. Should he just quit it now, while Remus was laughing? Maybe if he said, 'Hey, this is all a big joke. April fools, now go on with your life,' Remus would believe him and walk out of the Room smiling. But then he would remember what Harry had said about him being a werewolf… no, it was best just to continue this. Make Remus believe.

"Show him your patronus," Ron said suddenly.

Harry glanced over at him. "Come again?"

"Your patronus. It's Prongs, right? So how else can you explain your patronus looking exactly like James's animagus form? Conjure your patronus, and you've proved that you're Harry Potter."

Remus was watching them with interest as Harry muttered back, "Times like these I wish we were back home. Then I don't have to prove who I am. Flash my forehead around a bit, and everyone knows it's me."

"Because of your scar, right?" Remus asked interestedly, "We saw it, but I figured it'd be rude to ask about it. I don't care too much right now, though. How'd you get it?"

"Long story," Harry snapped. "Look, you don't believe I am who I say I am, so just- just look at this, okay? _Expecto Patronum!" _

The silver stag burst forth from his wand and trotted over to Remus, where it swung its head arrogantly a few times, gazed down at him, the disappeared back into Harry's wand.

"And _that_, Remus, was Prongs, my patronus. It's a striking likeness, isn't it?" Harry couldn't help it; a hint of smugness snuck into his voice.

"Th- that looks exactly like James," Remus stuttered. He gazed at Harry, wide eyed. "I read about it once, you know. How sometimes when a parent does something spectacular to protect their child, that child's patronus, their protector against fear and darkness, _becomes_ the embodiment of the parent. And there's no denying that's Prongs, so you… you're James' and Lily's _son_! Holy… what did James do to protect you?"

"He…" Harry shifted uncomfortably. Tell Remus that his best friend was going to be murdered by Voldemort? He thought not. "That's a long story too. Maybe I'll tell you later, but right now-,"

"Hold on!" Remus interrupted, shooting up as if suddenly remembering something. "You've told me that big secret of yours, but there's still a lot you have to answer to! That whole conversation about Fee, most importantly. You were talking as if you knew everything that was going to happen to her!"

"That's because we do," Ron said, having finally decided that Harry had done enough explaining for one night. "Back in our time, Voldemort's a big deal. We're all _really_ involved, I guess you'd say. See, we know things about some of the murders Voldemort committed in the past. One of them… he wanted to destroy the line of Ravenclaw, so he could be the last descendant of any of the Hogwarts founders, and he wanted to get something of Ravenclaw's while he was at it. He kidnapped Fee, killed two birds with one stone."

"I don't understand," Remus admitted slowly, but his eyes narrowed in thought.

"Fee's the last of the Ravenclaw line, ever since her mom and uncle died. That pendant she has- it used to be Ravenclaw's. It's been passed down for, well, I don't know how long. You'd have to ask Hermione if you wanted to know that."

"Around a thousand years," Remus muttered. "So… you know all this because you were involved with Voldemort in a way that you're being very unspecific about, and because you know all these thing about him you're going to- what?"

"Save her," Harry replied instantly. "We're getting her out of there tonight. That's why we need the Map, so we can avoid all the people Dumbledore's got roaming the halls."

Remus nodded and stood up. "Well then, what are you waiting for?"

He began moving toward the door and Harry stood up, confused, and followed him. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Look, Fee's my friend. I'm helping you, any way I possibly can. The Map is in a trunk that James spelled so only the Marauders can get it out. He figured it was too much work, and too much magic, and too important to our pranks to leave it lying around where anyone could find it. You need me to get to it."

Harry followed Remus silently as he darted into a passage that would take them close to the Gryffindor tower. Who would have thought that telling Remus the truth would have been necessary to saving Fee? He was suddenly very glad that coincidences like this seemed to follow him around constantly.


	20. Chapter 19

**Merry Christmas!**

Chapter 19

Ginny was furious. She was hurt, and offended, enraged, and, worst of all, worried. She had been walking ahead of her brother and friends while traveling back to the common room because she had been trying to bring Elaina out of her catatonic state. When next she looked over her shoulder, the other three were gone, and Remus too, now that she thought about it. Of course she had _known_ that Harry would go after Fee; she knew him, and that was just the sort of thing he'd do. But she had expected him to at least tell her that he was going, if not invite her to come along.

And why shouldn't she go with them? She got along just as well with Fee as they did. She had just as much a reason to go and help. And she fought equally well! It's true, she hadn't been gallivanting across all of Europe doing Merlin only knows what, but that _certainly_ wasn't for lack of trying. Wasn't she at the Ministry with the others that night? Hadn't she come out alive? And didn't that _prove_ that she was capable of something like this?

Oh no, they hadn't considered anything like that. They had just stuck together, their little trio. That's how it always had been. If there was trouble, if they wanted to go do something heroic, they called on each other. Not one of those three paused to think that doing so would endanger the others' lives; it just was so natural to do dangerous things as a trio. But as soon as somebody else was thrown into the mix, they were suddenly all conscious of how wrong the situation could go. And even after that none of them would show any regard for the rest of the trio's safety, they simply got all up in arms about the outsider who wanted to come along! Well, she was not an outsider anymore. She was Ginny Weasley, good friend of Hermione, sister or Ron, girlfriend- _ex _girlfriend- of Harry. She had a connection to all three of them, and it would be a cold day in hell when they denied her that connection and blocked her out of their lives.

She stormed up the stairs to the boys' dorm as the others stayed in the common room, weakly telling the whole of the Gryffindor House what exactly had happened to Fee. She paused for a moment at the door to the seventh year boys' dorm, eyes narrowing. This- this _problem_ she had was entirely the fault of men. If Hermione was the Girl-Who-Lived, you better believe she'd be sensible enough to allow Ginny to help. But no, Hermione had to be the underrepresented sex in the trio. Harry and Ron, those _men_ were the majority, they had the final, loudest voice, and, unfortunately, they were both extremely adamant on keeping her out of danger. Overprotective. That's what they were. She blamed it on her being the only girl in the Weasley family. That's really where the whole overprotective thing started.

Sighing, she flopped down on a random bed, praying that it wasn't Wormtail's. No matter what Harry was doing to change that boy, she still didn't want to be anywhere near his bed.

Minutes ticked by. How long could their meeting possibly take? Surely they were all willing to charge off and save Fee, there was no logical reason for this to take so long. Unless Hermione thought it would be interfering with the past? But wasn't that what they were supposed to be doing? Maybe it wasn't taking long at all. Maybe they had already left. In that case, she had been wrong to wait for them in the boys' dorm. Although she had been _sure_ that one of them would have to come up here. That was always the case…

"So, where's this trunk, anyway?"

Ginny shot up. She had been right. Why was she doubting herself, she knew better than to do that. The voice she had just heard was Harry's and it sounded like it was coming closer. He had to be coming into the room.

"Shrunk and shoved inside one of Sirius's socks."

Remus? What was he doing with Harry? Surely he wasn't going with them also? He better not be. If those three had thought to invite Remus but not her, saying that there would be hell to pay would be a severe understatement.

"That's disgust- Ginny! What are you doing in here?" Harry had opened the door mid sentence, only to find a very angry looking redhead perched on a bed and glaring daggers at him.

"I want you to consider the circumstances, consider that I know nearly everything you plan up in that mind of yours, then consider the complete absurdity of the question, given the context. You know what I'm doing here." Ginny smiled inwardly at his expression- a mixture of confusion, shock, and fear. It was good to know that she could still scare him, even after all he'd been through.

"I think she's a bit perturbed," Remus stage whispered as he walked to the foot of the bed Ginny was sitting on and opened the trunk there.

Harry rolled his eyes at Remus then focused on Ginny. "Look, Gin, I don't-,"

He was going to tell her he didn't want her coming with him. She couldn't have that. Ginny stood up slowly, her glare boring into Harry. "Don't you _dare_ finish that thought. Harry Potter, I may not have the experience that your life has given you, I might not be as old as you, or as worldly, but you better believe I am just as good a fighter, and _far_ more determined. It comes from being holed up in a safe house while _everyone_ you care about is risking their life. No more, Harry. I'm not letting you tell me to sit down, be a good girl, and maybe I'll get to hear a few stories when the big kids get back. I'm capable, and what's more, I know that _you _know that I am. I'm going with you, and I am helping to save this girl."

Harry stood before her, speechless. The silence dragged on, the two teens glaring directly into each others' eyes, neither wanting to give in. When the silence broke, it was not by either of them.

"You know, Ginny," Remus said casually, a pair of lumpy socks in hand, "You really can't afford to get this angry; you don't remember to keep up your façade. Just think, if I had been anyone else, you'd be stuck here, not saving Fee and explaining why you just called him 'Harry Potter'."

His remark caused Ginny to break the nearly visible line of daggers flying between her and Harry's eyes. "Wh- What?"

Remus smiled, seeming to enjoy the situation far more than anyone should when your friend's life is in danger. "Mm hmm. Don't worry about it, though. I probably wouldn't have been able to stay in character either."

Ginny whipped around so that she was once more facing Harry. "You _told_ him?!"

Gulping, Harry nodded.

"All of it?"

Another nod.

"How _dare_ you! This involves me too, you know! I should have been informed that somebody here knows about us! How long ago did this happen? How long was he laughing at me while I tried to be Hermione's sister?!" Her voice was reaching a dangerous decibel, a sure sign that anyone in the room who valued their life should leave.

"Calm down, Ginny, please," Harry begged, reaching out and touching her arm in an attempt to placate her. "He just found out today, I swear."

"He's right," Remus confirmed. He had pulled whatever was lumping the socks out and was now placing it in the middle of a bare spot on the floor. "I noticed that they left midway to the common room and followed them. I also may have eavesdropped on everything they said."

"So much for 'gathering the truth'," Harry muttered sourly.

Remus flashed him a small smile. "That was what it was when what I heard hadn't been justified. Now that I've actually found answers, I'll proudly admit that I was snooping." He tapped his wand against the object three times, and it grew until it was a trunk about the length of Ginny's forearm. "Turn around, both of you," he ordered. "I can't have you seeing how to open this."

Ginny and Harry turned to face the door, confused and exasperated, respectively. In her confusion, Ginny had temporarily forgotten that Harry was holding her back and that she was determined to be nasty to him. "What's he doing?"

"Getting the Marauders Map," Harry replied, keeping his eyes forward. "so we can get out of here quicker."

And that's when everything came crashing back. Her glare returned, as did her sour attitude. "If you're going after her, then I am too."

"No." His voice was hard- commanding. She was sure that that voice, combined with the fact that he was _the_ Harry Potter, had assured him whatever he wanted in the past. She wasn't going to let it work on her.

"I can take care of myself, and you know it. I was there at the Department of Mysteries; I fought when Death Eaters got into the school!"

"You were also caught and _tortured_!" His voice cracked at the end. "Ginny, I'm not- I can't let you come. I'm sorry, but I can't risk that again. I'd never forgive myself."

Ginny softened slightly. It was had to stay completely mad at a person who cared so much about you. "This isn't your choice to make, Harry. I can take care of myself, promise."

"Like you did in first year, right?" His voice lashed out like a whip.

Ginny was taken aback. Never- _never_- had he used the incident with the diary against her. He had never been so heartless to bring it up again. He knew it hurt her- knew that she still had nightmares about the Chamber, yet he said it anyway! It was like he was _trying_ to hurt her as much as possible.

Harry realized his mistake immediately. "Ginny, I'm sorry! I'm so so _so_ sorry! I shouldn't have said that, I don't even remember thinking about saying it! All I know is that I wanted to make you stay behind! I would've said anything to keep you safe; I just didn't mean to say _that_! Please, Ginny, look at me. I just wanted you to realize that you could get hurt. I just don't want you going with us!"

Ginny walked past him and through the door. Just as she passed out from under the doorframe, she paused and looked over her shoulder. "Just try and stop me. Remus! Where are they all at?"

Remus, while he didn't understand exactly what was going on, knew that Harry had just really screwed up, and it took a moment for him to break out of his 'my friend is such an idiot' stupor. "Er- Room of Requirement."

She didn't pause for a moment, just stormed down the stairs.

* * *

"Well, Ron?"

"It's no good, 'Mione. You weren't moving fast enough- I could still see you, even if I couldn't stop you."

Ginny walked into the Room of Requirement just as Hermione let out a string of swears that Ginny had only ever heard coming from Fred and George, with a few more creative ones mixed in. It was enough to stop her in her tracks.

"I think it's because I'm using the Greek work for time rather than the Latin one," Hermione muttered as she paced back and forth. "I had thought that _temnein_ would be stronger, since, you know, it _is_ the root of the Latin word. But Latin _is_ the traditional language for spells. Oh, but if I go back and change it to Latin, then I'll have to change everything else, and I won't have time to find the spell shortcut, and- Ginny!"

"What's a spell shortcut?" She was about to go out on a dangerous mission to save a girl from murders, but she couldn't help it if her curiosity got the better of her.

Hermione couldn't resist the chance to pass on knowledge. "Spells start out as phrases, detailing what they want to happen. After experimentation on the phrase- and usually a lot of it- you can find a simple word or two that will accomplish the same thing. What exactly are you doing here? And where's Harry and Remus?"

"They're-,"

"We're right here," Harry announced bitterly as they joined the others in the Room. "We've got the map, have you got the spell?"

"I've got another hour," She called over her shoulder as she rushed back to her encased corner.

"You didn't answer her question, Gin," Ron pointed out, eyes narrowing. "Why are you here?"

"I'm going too," his sister replied stiffly, lying down on the carpeted floor and placing her arms beneath her head.

Ron jumped up from his chair, "_What?!_ Did Harry tell you that you could? Because there's absolutely no way-,"

Ginny was back on her feet in a matter of seconds. Her wand was out and Ron was pinned harshly against the wall. "You listen to me, Ron. I've already convinced Harry that there's no telling me no, and if you like I can leave you hanging up there until you realize it too. I know I'm your baby sister. I know you feel like you have to protect me. But you have to _let go_. I'm sixteen, and if I recall correctly, you had already done a load of dangerous, deadly stuff by that age. You survived, and I'm just as good if not better at dueling than you. You can wish me luck, you can have my back while we're fighting, and you can worry about me all you like, but I'm not going to let you hold me back. Will you accept that?"

Ron had learned years ago that arguing with a Weasley woman was just prolonging defeat, and most likely making it more painful also. So rather than arguing, he sighed, shook his head sadly, and said, "I don't like this."

"You don't have to," Ginny replied softly as she lowered him gently to the ground. "Just know that I'm capable, and try to be okay with that."

Her brother crossed the room and hugged her tightly. "I swear, Ginny, if you die I'm never going to forgive you. I'll hunt your ghost down and remind it every day that I'm not forgiving you."

She hugged him back, suddenly incredibly grateful that he loved her so much. "I'm not going to die, I promise."

Ron held onto her for a moment more before letting go and returning to his seat. "'Mione's nearly got the spell worked out, I think."

"What spell?" Ginny, the only one who didn't know the plan, asked.

Together, Ron and Remus detailed the plan to her while Harry sat down sulkily in a corner chair, not sure if he was angry at Ginny for defying him or ashamed at himself for the lengths he had gone to to keep her safe.

Time passes slowly, anticipation mounted. Finally, Hermione exited from her shield and joined them. "Well, it's not perfect, but my two hours are up, so it'll have to do."

They stood up silently. Now that the moment was at hand, the weight of what they were doing was upon them all. Death Eaters were hardly a matter to be taken lightly.

"Remus, are you going to...?"

Remus shook his head at Ginny, who had asked the question. "No, I'm not going with you. I'd be useless in a duel, and I know it. I'm going to go to the others, and maybe see if I can think of a reason for why you all are going to be gone so long."

Ginny nodded and followed her three friends out the door, Remus following behind her. Once in the hallway, they pulled out the two Invisibility Cloaks and the Marauders Map. Hermione charmed their eyes so that they could see each other while invisible, and silently Harry and Ron disappeared beneath one cloak, and Ginny and Hermione beneath the other.

They quickly made their way through the halls, toward a mansion full of heartless murderers and their master, perhaps the most cruel, deadly man in the world, not knowing how things would all end, but praying that it would be well.

Remus, hoping that they weren't too far away to hear him, whispered quietly, "Good luck."


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The journey through the halls of Hogwarts and around the teachers making their rounds was made as quickly as silent travel allows, but to Harry it seemed like it took an eternity. Every step they slowly took, every second they halted behind a corner consulting the Map, was wasted time. It was Fee's life ticking away while they snuck like thieves through the castle. And to make matters worse, even though Fee's life was his main concern, he would occasionally glimpse Ginny out of the corner of his eye and the words that he had said to her earlier would reverberate in his head. He pushed them back into the dark, forgotten corners of his mind and willed them to be silent. It would work for about thirty steps. He knew that dwelling on it wasn't helpful and that it would hinder him once the fighting started, but somehow he couldn't completely shut his subconscious up.

Once outside where there weren't any patrols, the group began to hurry and cared less for stifling the sound of their travel. Ron and Harry's speed had picked up so much from the anticipation built up within them that they were nearly running when they finally reached the Willow. Hermione and Ginny weren't far behind, and Ron had already grabbed a long stick to poke the knot with when they appeared beside the boys.

"Quick! Get in!" he hissed while he remained holding the knot down. His words were useless. Hermione and Ginny had already slipped through the hole when he said them, and Harry wasn't far behind. Ron slid in behind Harry, and they traveled single file, hunched over, through the passage.

It seemed to Harry that all the previous times he had commuted through this tunnel, it had been faster. To his memory, even floating an unconscious Snape and dragging a shackled Wormtail through the passage had taken less time than it was now. He knew that it was because of the severity of the situation, that they were jogging through the tunnel as fast as he could, but he couldn't get the image of Fee surrounded by Death Eaters out of his head. It was burned in there, lingering just before his sight so that no matter what lay in front of him, he could still see her in his imagination.

Harry growled in frustration and tried to pick up his speed only to trip over a root and stumble into Ginny. She looked behind her coolly, silently helped Harry regain his footing, and then continued on as if he was merely a stranger who she had only helped in passing, as courtesy dictated. Did that mean she was really angry with him, or that she couldn't care less? She couldn't be incredibly angry, could she? Not when they were running toward potential death.

Death. There were so many lives at stake for this one night. Not only his, Ron's, Hermione's, Ginny's, and Fee's, though they were the ones he cared for the most. Death Eaters would most likely die tonight too. Harry didn't like killing, he tried not to, but he knew that it was inevitable. Some of the men and women he hit with curses during battle died. Some died at the hands of their master for not capturing Harry and his friends. Some died nightly because he had yet to find a way to kill Voldemort. So many dead. So many lives that were worth something, that could have grown into something.

But he was saving one tonight, wasn't he? He was making a difference. His presence in the past was going to save someone who had died the first time around. And if that caused repercussions he hadn't yet considered, then at least his conscience was better off for the deed. He wouldn't stay up late into the night wishing that he had tried to save Fee, as he often sat up wishing he hadn't gone to the Department of Mysteries that night, hadn't convinced Cedric to take the trophy with him, hadn't asked the entire Order to hide in Russia with him… Fee wouldn't become one of these 'hadn't's.

Hermione was out of the passage. They had reached the Shrieking Shack. Harry was both relieved and terrified. The thrill of danger that always invaded his spirit when he knew that he would have to fight was there, preparing him for what was sure to come.

"We all know where we're going?" Hermione asked solemnly, eyeing them each in turn. It was written across her face that she knew the harm this one night could cause. She knew they might not all return.

Ron and Harry nodded, but Ginny bit her lip and shook her head. She had never gone to the Riddle House before.

"I'll take you," Ron offered instantly. She was his sister. She was his responsibility. If she demanded that she go along, then he might as well make sure that she wasn't harmed in getting there.

But Harry had a sudden thought. _There were so many lives at stake for this one night_. He might die. Ginny might die. He didn't want either of them going into this with what had happened earlier left ignored. He knew that he didn't have much time for apologies and explanations, and he wasn't planning on giving her many of those. But he didn't want anything to happen to either of them when they were both upset with each other. Once they reached the Riddle House, any and all thought of Ginny would be erased from his mind, and he didn't want to have to wait until after the fight, after God only knows what had happened, to clear the air.

"No, Ron," he said quietly. "I can take her. You and Hermione go on ahead; we'll see you in a second."

Ginny glanced at him frostily, but it was lacking the menace that usually accompanied her glares when she was truly upset with someone. Once Hermione and Ron had vanished with two small pops, she folded her arms and asked stiffly, "Shouldn't we be going too?"

Harry nodded. "Soon. Look, Ginny-,"

She cut him off, putting a finger over his mouth to silence him and saying, "Look. I know you're going to spout some long, mostly likely deeply heart felt and convincing speech about how terribly sorry you are, and I'm probably going to listen and forgive you. I _want_ to forgive you. I want to forget everything you said that hurt me, because I know you said them because you care about me in your freakishly protective way. I want everything to be better between us, but I don't want it to be because you think we'll die and you have to make amends. We'll go into this tonight, get Fee out of there, and we'll both come out of it alive and well. Then, if you still want to make things better, I want to too. But not before then, okay?"

"Ginny, I don't want to go into this with that fight hanging over me! I don't want to come out of battle thinking about it."

"Then go into it knowing that I can't forgive you right now- it still hurts a little too much for that- but that I have every intention of forgiving you once this is over and we can have a long chat about it."

"Gin-."

"We should go now." Her voice was barely a whisper, but somehow it overrode his. There would be no reconciling tonight then. But she was probably right. The fight was still a little too fresh for both of them, and he knew that he wanted to save Fee more than stay in the Shrieking Shack much longer.

"Alright," Harry said. "Take my arm, and be prepared to run if I take us too close to the house." Then they too disappeared, leaving behind an empty house.

Ron and Hermione were there within seconds of there Apparation, grabbing each of them roughly by the arms and pulling them back into the leafless bushes.

"Where are we?" Harry whispered instantly, peering through the branches to try to get a feel for their location.

"We're about four hundred meters from the house," Hermione whispered. "Ron and I figure this is the only place we could Apparate to with the house being our destination. Frankly, I'm shocked that it let us get this close."

Harry nodded, but still had to whistle quietly at the distance between them and their destination.

"We'll never get through," Ron muttered sourly, eyeing the dozens of Death Eaters patrolling the ground before them.

"We've still got the Invisibility Cloaks with us," Ginny murmured, her eyes trained on a robed figure that had just been forced to turn and run when the ground before him started trembling and sparking. "But that won't help us avoid the traps."

"It won't help us get in, either," Harry replied. "If there's Anti-Apparation shields up, then there's bound to be a load of barriers blocking people from walking in too."

Hermione nodded. "I just ran a test of them before you two showed up. So far I've found three separate but fairly standard spells around the perimeter, and he's in the middle of creating the blood sacrifice spell that was around all the Horcrux hiding spots. But that one's not through yet, so we won't have any trouble getting past that."

"And the standard ones?" Harry asked.

"Have an alarm system built into them set to go off if anyone disassembles the shields." Hermione's answer was prompt, and the frown on her face was prominent.

"So how do we get in?" Ginny asked, but her attention was only half focused on the answer. She was busy probing the air in front of her with her wand.

Hermione chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully, but her reply came relatively quickly, so Harry was sure that she had been thinking this through since she first ran her diagnostic spells. "The only thing I see is that two of us will need to confund the alarm spell into thinking that all the shields are still in place. Then the other two will disassemble the shields, we'll all slip through, reassemble them, and release the Confundus charm. After that our only problem is getting around the guards and traps."

Harry snorted lightly and Ron asked, "You just made that up on the spot, did you?"

Hermione shrugged slightly, "I've been thinking about the possibility of the shields and alarms working in tandem ever since we decided to come here. It seemed reasonable that Voldemort would have it set up that way. This was the only thing I could come up with that might work."

"So who's going to do what?" Ginny asked. "I know I probably couldn't cast the Confundus charm."

"Then you and Ron can lower the barriers," Harry replied. "Ron's gotten through enough of them to know how to break past the standard ones, and you'll know the spells once he explains them to you."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "And you can cast the Confundus charm, can you?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. We all know that I'm better at more complicated spells than you are, and Hermione's already proved that she can do that spell, so even if I can't, she might get us through. Okay, Invisibility Cloaks in place? Right. Ron, Ginny, don't start lowering the shields until Hermione and I deal with the alarms, okay? We don't want the guards swarming us before we even get through. So just- watch for us to nod or something."

And with that they began. Hermione whispered to Harry what exactly he was supposed to do in order to perform the charm. He listened attentively, swung his wand a few times until she approved his wand movements, and then finally decided that they had wasted enough time.

"You do it first," Harry whispered. "Crouch Jr. mentioned in fourth year that powerful magic is harder to confund, but I think that if you get most of it, I should be able to get the rest."

Hermione nodded, her mouth set in a grim line, and flicked her wrist. She mouthed the words, but if she said them aloud Harry couldn't hear. Her gaze never left the empty air in front of her, but after several minutes of silence, she finally glanced over at Harry. He gripped his wand determinedly, and in his mind saw Hermione showing him the movements over and over. He raised his wand, whispered the words, and prayed to whatever deity was listening that it worked.

There was an expectant silence that stretched across there little hideaway. Ron and Ginny looked at Harry and Hermione with wide eyes and bated breath, Hermione and Harry were watching the air, tensely waiting for any signal that there spell had worked. And then the air around them seemed to relax slightly. Hermione's shoulders loosened, and she glanced over at the siblings behind her. She gave one short nod then returned to holding the spell.

Ron and Ginny worked swiftly. Harry had been right before: Ron had much practice when it came to dismantling the more common security spells, and with his instruction he and his sister quickly worked through them all. They grabbed their friends' shoulders and pulled them over the threshold that could somehow be sensed rather than felt or seen. Once across, they reversed the spells quickly and Hermione and Harry stopped confunding the alarm. They both sagged with relief and allowed themselves a short rest before continuing on.

Avoiding the Death Eaters was easier than any of them would have thought possible. They weren't disciplined it seemed, for their slow meanderings around the grounds were not in the least difficult to dodge. They most likely assumed that nothing would ever get passed the spells guarding the property.

The traps placed sporadically across the lawn were more difficult to dodge. Ginny had taken to scanning the ground before them for any sign of sorcery while the others wove around the masked patrols. She had to pull the other three back several times to keep them from stepping on a particularly lethal patch of earth. It was time consuming, and although the distance was not incredibly great, it took the four nearly half an hour to cross it. None of them were willing to take any chances.

The entrance to the house itself was guarded by a mere blood offering spell, a favorite of Voldemort's, they had learned. Harry had worried that they would need a Dark Mark to get it, but luck- as it often was with Harry- was on his side, and it appeared the Voldemort had yet to realize the practicality of that type of guard spell.

They slipped in unnoticed, hardly daring to believe that it really had been that easy to get in. Suddenly, around the corner they heard a crash. All four spun instantly to see what it was, and in doing so ran straight into six Death Eaters who were running at them from the opposite direction.


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Ginny froze. Something in the corner of her mind recognized that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had instinctively dove, taking their Invisibility Cloaks with them. So Ginny was left in the middle of the hallway of Riddle Manner, staring down six Death Eaters, completely unable to move. Images flashed before her: Tonks falling to the ground, Death Eaters swarming, taking Ginny captive, merciless beatings that cracked her ribs and punctured her organs, the snake pit where she was thrown for the amusement of the Death Eaters as they watched her scream and writhe, the leering face of Crabbe as he gleefully snapped her leg, the Chamber of Secrets, Tom- the boy she had trusted so completely in first year- betray and attack her.

The six surrounding her had returned from their shock. They were coming towards her, their wands raised, and still she could not move. Still she was paralyzed by her memories. Suddenly the robed men before her were the faces of her past, the faces of the ones who had held her captive, and she could do nothing but cower in the corners of her mind, begging that she not be put through such torment again.

And then she was shooting backwards and falling into an invisible body behind her. She felt the cloak wrap around her again, sensed that she was once more invisible, that whoever had just saved her was now dragging her roughly and quickly away, but still she could not get over the sudden shock of being reminded of evil.

"Hey!" one of the Death Eaters behind her was yelling, his voice slurring slightly. "There's a girl in the manor!"

Her companion jerked her into a dark corridor and shoved her roughly against the wall. "What the bloody freaking hell was that?!" Harry yelled, shoving the hood off so that she might see just how angry he really was. Hermione's and Ron's heads floated behind him, both wearing quite similar expressions.

"I- I…" The words wouldn't come to her.

"You could have been killed!" Harry's voice had lowered to an angry hiss. "And soon we'll have everybody in this place looking for us! _How_ are we supposed to get in and get Fee when we have a horde of Death Eaters sniffing at our heels? What- the _hell_- were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about what it was like back at the camp when I was captured," Ginny replied quietly. She had come back to her self somewhat, and was completely ashamed of what had just happened. She had forced them to take her along. She had ranted and raved about how she was just as good as they were; she could handle the big bad Death Eaters. They had trusted her this time, accepted her into their group, and what had she done? She had proved them right in their original assumptions of her. She couldn't handle it. When faced with real danger, _they_ were the ones who moved instantly. They were the ones who were unafraid and resolved the situation calmly. She was the one who froze, who endangered them all, and who proved that there was a reason why it had only ever been the three of them. She was the reason why they were so wary of accepting outsiders when they went off on any of their little stunts. Outsiders just couldn't cut it. They were a liability. _She_ was a failure.

"You need to snap out of it!" Ron hissed, glancing over his shoulder to watch for approaching Death Eaters. "Get over it and move on! This is the worst time in the world for you to decide to go prancing about in the past. Next time you freeze, one of us is going to wind up _dead_!"

Ginny felt her eyes gloss over with tears, and immediately her shame deepened. She wasn't going to cry here. She couldn't. Yes, she had just screwed up. Big time. Yes, now they would probably not trust her to be useful the rest of the time she was here. But that was certainly _not_ a reason to cry. It was a reason to pull herself together, hold her head a bit higher, and do better the next time. It was a reason to prove herself, and by the name of Merlin she would. So they thought she was dead weight now. So what? She had had some traumatic experiences in the past, and until that point hadn't known exactly how they would affect her when she was put into a dangerous situation again. Now she did. She knew, and could work to ignore it the next time. She had demanded to be brought along, fought about it until they accepted, and now she was going to prove that it hadn't been a mistake. And she was going to start by weaving them through the mess of Death Eaters she had created.

"Let's go," Ginny muttered rather than reply to Ron or offer anymore explanation. She pulled the Cloak's hood back over her and Harry's heads sharply, and began moving cautiously down the hallway. "Where will they be keeping Fee?"

"A hidden room on the second floor where we found the Horcrux." Harry had spoken directly into her ear so that he wouldn't have to raise his voice much and his breath across her cheek made her shiver. A group of Death Eaters turned the corner in front of them, and Ginny forced herself to focus again. She pulled Harry quickly back against the wall so that the hooded figures wouldn't touch them.

"This is ridiculous," the one nearest the hidden teens growled. "How are we supposed to find kids that disappear?"

"Jackson said that he saw a kid here," replied one with a nasally voice. "If he can see it, so can we."

"Jackson is never not high," the first one said, sounding irritated. "How the hell is a kid supposed to get in here anyway? You ask me, what we're hunting is nothing but his newest supply of fairy dust acting up."

"Well we didn't ask you, did we?" the one at the end with a deep, biting voice snapped. "Besides, the five who were with him saw her too."

"Maybe Jackson decided to share," the first snapped in return.

"Shut up, the lot of you," muttered the fourth and last member of the patrol. "Yer givin' me a headache. Jist finish up lookin' fer the kid real quick so we c'n get back to preparin' the girl like everyone else."

They turned the corner silently, and the four students remained glued up against the wall for a few moments after, hardly daring to breath.

"Well," said Hermione, somewhere off to Ginny's left. "I suppose that means there's not nearly as many patrols as we had thought. At least you picked the Death Eater that nobody took seriously to freeze in front of, Gin."

Ginny said nothing, but Ron, sounding glum, said, "Yeah, not many patrols, but the rest of them are preparing Fee."

"Then I guess we better get there quickly," Harry replied as he began walking away, memory guiding his footsteps.

They encountered only a few more Death Eaters along the way, and usually at such a distance that they didn't even have to press themselves up against the wall, only stop walking for a moment and wait silently for them to pass. Finding the room where Fee was held proved to be a more difficult task. Neither Harry nor Ron nor Hermione could remember exactly where it was that they had found the room before, since they had been led there by the overwhelming feel of magic from the wards protecting the Horcrux. Now those wards did not exist, and the group found that they could not decide where the room was hidden.

"You can't remember _anything_ about where it was?" Ginny pressed.

"No, Ginevra!" Ron snapped, his frustration enough to have spurred the use of her full name. "If we could remember anything, don't you think we'd be moving by now?"

Ginny crossed her arms angrily, "Just because you can't find your way, don't take it out on me, Ronald!"

Ron would have replied, and possibly given away their position by replying loudly, but Hermione interrupted him. "This is not the time for one of your- sibling _spats_, you two! Shut up while we figure out where on earth we're going."

"Wasn't- wasn't there a statue next to the door?" Harry asked slowly.

"A statue?" Hermione's face creased in concentration as she attempted to remember. "Yes… it was- it was at the end of a hallway wasn't it?"

Harry's voice was triumphant now. "Yeah. The statue was on a ledge at the end of a hallway, and that ledge was what took the blood offering!"

That was all that needed be said. The stairs leading to the second floor had opened up to a room about as large as the Burrow's ground floor. They had been standing at the edge of it, a full view of the doors lining the room, as they attempted to remember where the hidden room was. Immediately after Harry recalled the location, the four began walking down opposite sides of the room, cautiously inspecting behind doors for any sign of a hallway with a statue behind it. Harry and Ginny were about two thirds of the way down their side when they heard Hermione's quiet voice behind them.

"There's about fifteen Death Eaters behind one of the doors. Ron and I saw the statue behind them."

"How do we get through them without anybody on the other side noticing something?" Ginny asked as they began to cross the width of the room.

The reply, when it came, wasn't directed at her, nor did she seem to be included in the intended audience. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had reverted back to their old, tight-knit trio ways and began planning together in hushed voices. Ginny knew it was probably for the best. After all, they knew the exact extent of each other's abilities and it would be best to form a plan that three could accomplish so that her extra wand wouldn't be necessary, simply helpful. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little resentful.

"How many can we Stun before the shock wears off and they fight back?" Harry asked.

Hermione made a quiet, contemplative noise then said, "Seven or eight if we rely on a good ricochet. But that still leaves seven that have to be dealt with before they can call an alarm."

"We won't be able to take the rest out that quick," Ron added dismally. "We're too rusty. Fee's capture proved that much. Diversion?"

Ginny could feel Harry shake his head beside her, tugging at the fabric surrounding them. "What kind of diversion could we possibly create that wouldn't send them out here and straight into us?"

"Something outside," Ginny put in quickly. Then, before they had a chance to overrun her with doubts and questions, she continued, "That third door we looked at- it led to an empty room with a window taking up the whole north side. Set off one of the traps in the yard, then the ones standing guard will have to go out and inspect it. The people they'd normally send are pacing the halls looking for us, so there's nobody left in this whole place to go find out what happened _except_ for those guards in there."

"It might work," Hermione said thoughtfully after nearly a minute of silence. "At the very least it will send enough of them out that we'll have a good shot at getting around the ones that stay there."

Harry turned toward the room with the window, Ginny following so that she wouldn't lose the cover of the Cloak. "Count the ones who come out, you two," Harry said quietly over his shoulder to Ron and Hermione. "And get an exact count of the ones that are still there."

Having already intruded into their plan formulating once, Ginny felt more comfortable when she did it a second time. "And see it you can keep the door open so we don't have to do it later and draw attention when we go in there."

Within a few moments, they stood staring at the ground below them searching for one of the numerous traps to set off.

"I don't suppose you can tell where they are from up here," Harry muttered sourly. "It all looks exactly the same to me."

"All trap spells need a trigger," Ginny murmured her quiet reply, narrowed eyes scanning the ground. "It's something you learn to look for in the Weasley family. Fred and George always put there triggers in little knickknacks that were out of the ordinary, but not things that were incredibly strange to be lying around: a half eaten plate of chicken on the sofa or a book in Ron's room. Most of the ones I noticed crossing the grounds here were stones in a depression or a flowering weed."

"Like that one under the tree there?" Harry asked, pointing off toward the left.

Ginny squinted, trying to see what he was pointing to, but the angle she stood at proved this to be impossibly. In the end she simply shrugged. "Levitate something onto it. If you're right, something very nasty will happen. If not, we keep looking until we find something."

Harry disappeared a pane of glass in front of him, stuck his wand arm out of the opening, and moved a small stone from the walkway beneath the house to the weed that he had seen. For a brief moment, nothing happened. Ginny was about to return her gaze to the rest of the lawn in front of her, but the ground trembled slightly, then _exploded_. Grass and rocks shot everywhere, leaving a depression as long as Harry was tall behind.

Harry whistled lightly. "Well. I suppose that was one."

Ginny didn't reply; she was a bit too shaken by the thoughts of what could have happened had one of them accidentaly stepped on a trigger. So she merely pulled him out to the main room where Ron called to them lightly so that they might rejoin their invisible friends. They had moved away from the open door somewhat so that the guards who remained in the hallway couldn't hear them as they conversed in voices that were barely whispers.

"Six left immediately after the explosion you two set off," Hermione informed them promptly. "There's eight left in the hall."

"I'm going to go look," Ron said instantly. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Ron was the best strategic thinker any of them had ever known. It had been a shock to him at the beginning of the war that no one else could envision battles or maneuvers the way that he could, but as time went on he stopped thinking about it at all and simply took the role of chess player (he could never think of himself as a strategist. It was just chess to him). He returned momentarily, laughing lightly. "They've got themselves set up in the stupidest way I've seen in my life. They're lined up in rows two deep straight across the floor. We didn't even need me to look at them to figure out what we've got to do. Each of us are going to take a row and shoot off two Stunners, one right after the other, so that the first guy gets hit and falls just in time for the second stunner to shoot over him and get the man behind him. As soon as we get through and into the room, Hermione, you need to do your time spell. We won't want to have to fight our way through to Fee. It's all fairly simple. All we have to worry about is the normal problems with Stunners."

Harry and Hermione accepted this without a word, and Ginny concluded that the "normal problems" were things that they had dealt with several times before. She, on the other hand, had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, and said such to her brother.

He explained, "Stunners aren't effective when you try them wordlessly, so you have to say the incantation and tell your enemies where you are. They're also real easy to see, so if you have to have them work, you have to be close enough that the targets can't dodge them before they reach."

"So we have to get right up in front of the Death Eaters."

"You won't freeze up again?" his tone was accusatory.

"Let's just do this, Ron," she snapped quietly in reply.

"_Don't_ mess up the timing," Ron warned. "It's the only thing we have to make sure we all attack at the same time. Ten steps toward the Death Eaters, three seconds for each step, count five seconds after step ten then shoot off the two Stunners. Harry, help guide Ginny. She's not used to this."

Ginny thought better of snapping again, and instead simply allowed Harry to lead her to the doorway. Ron was probably right, anyway. Who knows how many times they had done this type of counted approach before? They most likely had perfected it, and of the four she was the one most likely to falter or miscount. So she let Harry lead their steps, his hand at her elbow and his breathy counting quietly sounding in her ear.

The approach was the longest thirty seconds of her life. If anybody had bothered to tell her that it was a mere half a minute, she wouldn't have believed them. Each second lasted an eternity, and after three eternities she could barely bring her foot to move her another silent step forward. The masked figures became increasingly closer, her heartbeat increased with each step, and always her doubt grew. Could she do it? She had always done relatively well with Stunners, but now when it counted for more than any other time in her life, would she be able to? She had to. She couldn't disappoint her friends and brother when they were counting on her. Couldn't fail and leave Fee to her fate.

"One…Two…" Harry's voice in her ear again. Too bad she was about five feet in front of possible death. It would have been pleasurable otherwise.

"Three…Four…" Why wasn't he stopping at three like before? They couldn't have taken their ten steps yet, she wasn't ready! What was the incantation for Stunners? One two, right? One right after the other so that she got both the Death Eaters directly in front of her… wait! That one twitched! Did he know that they were there? Could he hear her heartbeat? What if-

"Five."

All thought stopped instantly. All worries she had prior to that point were wiped away instantly, leaving her mind blank as she shouted, almost in complete unison with the three around her, "Stupefy! Stupefy!"

There was a thud. All eight Death Eaters were on the ground, rendered unconscious by beams of red light. Harry and Ron took the Invisibility Cloaks off and put them into their pockets. The time for discretion was over. Now they needed to get into the room beyond the wall, which, compared to what they had done prior to this point, proved to be anticlimactic. Where in the future there would be a spell set up to accept blood sacrifices, now there was only a small switch that would unhinge the door to the hidden room.

They arranged themselves in the most efficient manner: Ginny beside the switch, waiting to open the door, Hermione in the center of the wall, wand at the ready, and Ron and Harry behind her in case her spell failed to work and they were forced to fight. Shakily, Ginny pressed the switch. A space in the wall popped out with a soft click, and she swiftly cast a spell to push it out the rest of the way.

Death Eaters. They crowded the room before them, so thick that a man of reasonable balance could easily cross the room on their shoulders. And every one of them turned their ghastly masked faces to the teenagers who had just opened their hidden door. Every one of them recovered from their shock and took a menacing step forward. Hermione hesitated barely a breath before her wand shot up and a slew of unfamiliar words came tumbling off her tongue. The Death Eaters took another step, their wands flying up and mouths opening.

The world spun, jerked, then stopped. A sea of Death Eaters rose before them, black hoods cresting a hundred ominous waves. And none of it was moving.

Ron let out a whoop, swept Hermione up in his arms, and spun her around. "You did it!"

"Yes, I did it," Hermione muttered, finding her footing again. "But I've no idea how long it will last. Come on, Fee's somewhere in this mess."

"Somewhere in that mess" proved to be the dead center, and human beings frozen in time were not easy to shoulder through so it took them a fair amount of time to get to the girl. Fee sat hunched over on a platform, magicked ropes fastening her down. The red pendant swung from her arched neck, the light it released throbbing violently even in the time that Hermione had slowed.

Harry grabbed at the pendant, freeing it from the girl's neck, and because he grabbed it between two instantaneous moments of time completely nonexistent to the statue like men surrounding him, the pendant did not register it and did not resist being stolen.

"Ron, help me with the clue," Harry ordered. "Hermione, keep your wand ready in case your spell gives out. Ginny, I need you to take this Cloak and get Fee out of here." He tossed her the Invisibility Cloak from his pocket and she deftly caught it.

"But what about you?"

"We'll be fine," Harry snapped. "Take Fee down to the town you'll find if you follow the road. There's a pub you can stay safely in until we meet with you. If we're not with you by nightfall, get back to Hogwarts. Don't you _dare_ try to come after us."

"Harry-!"

"Get out of here, Ginny! Now!" He yelled it at her with such force that she could nothing but obey. Quickly she levitated Fee above the heads of the Death Eaters and began the laborious task of weaving through them. She had made it maybe three feet before Harry called out again, "Ginny! Be careful. There are still those patrols out there."

Ginny hesitated a moment, unsure of how to respond, before saying, "I'll see you at the pub, Harry," and continuing on her way through the immobile Death Eaters, alone but for the frozen girl hovering above her.

The spell released its hold on Fee once she was through the doorway. The girl twisted and flailed within midair before Ginny set her down while closing the hidden door, hiding her friends and their spellwork from sight. Once Fee was on the ground, the cool intelligence that seemed to be infused into her personality took over and Fee brushed her clothes off, took note of the unconscious Death Eaters at her feet, and suddenly realized that the familiar weight at her neck had disappeared. She spun toward the hidden door, eyed the frozen Death Eaters warily as the wall closed and blocked them from view, then turned once more, this time to face Ginny. "What's happened?" Her voice was quiet, collected.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, deeply impressed at the girl's composure even in the midst of Voldemort's followers. "You were taken captive," she replied, taking the other girl's arm, throwing the Cloak over them both, and leading her down the hallway.

"Yes, I can recall that much," Fee snapped, shaking her arm free and walking on her own. "I'm talking about the prone _and_ frozen Death Eaters, my missing pendant, _you_- a girl from my _school_ a year below me- leading me out of this place, that ritual they were putting me through earlier. That's what I'm talking about. What's happened?"

Ginny had never believed in lying. She accepted the occasional lie- such as telling an entire school that you had moved from Australia- as a necessity of life. She didn't like making a habit of it, and given that Fee was the victim, she concluded that a little bit of truth was required.

"Voldemort had you taken captive so that he might kill of the last of Ravenclaw's line and use her pendant for himself." Ginny heard Fee's sharp intake of breath, but continued without waiting for comment. "Harry's always had a problem with anything happening to people. He goes out of the way to make sure that if he can, he'll help. So we came and got you out of here."

"_You_ and _Harry_ snuck into this fortress, immobilized far more Death Eaters than I could count at a glance, and got me out with nobody the wiser?" Fee replied skeptically.

Dancing around the truth by using half truths was easiest. "No. Ron and Hermione are here also. And I was caught once, just as we were coming in."

"But-"

The six Death Eaters who had gone out to investigate the trap that Harry set off rounded a corner, and Ginny pushed Fee against the wall, stopping her voice with her hand as the robed figures walked past them, grumbling.

"We have about three minutes before they find the others we stunned," Ginny hissed in anger. "Forget about staying hidden. We have to leave here as fast as we possibly can."

The two girls took off running down the stairs, their presence obviously heard if not seen. By some stroke of luck they encountered no Death Eaters at all until they got to the front door, when the returning guard began to call the alarm. Running footsteps could be heard from three different directions at least. Ginny glanced anxiously behind her and increased her pace once more.

No more than ten steps later, she noticed Fee's feet (the Invisibility Cloak would not cover their running feet) stepping towards a small, yellow-flowered weed. "Don't step on that!" she screeched, yanking Fee to her side and, knocked off balance, falling to the ground. Fee helped her up and they continued scrambling on their way. Panting slightly, Ginny said, "Little weeds and- stones. Don't- step on them. They're triggers."

Fee was an intelligent girl. She didn't need any more of an explanation, and they made their way off the grounds and outside of the wards without further mishap. They didn't slow their run until they were at the bottom of the hill and far out of the sight of the house. Then Ginny grabbed once more at Fee's arm, pulled the girl to a halt, and removed the Invisibility Cloak which had become cumbersome and heavy.

"We're going to the town that's along this road," she told the other girl. "There's a pub there that we'll stay in until the others join us."

Fee nodded. "Good. Once we're there and have something in our system, we can swap stories, you and I. Don't think for a minute that I'm satisfied by that brief chat we had earlier."


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"How's your ankle?"

Ginny glanced down. She had tripped over a rock on her way down the road, spraining it badly. Fee had tried to stop the swelling somewhat, but, as she ashamedly told Ginny, healing wasn't really her thing. "It's still pretty painful, but I think the swelling may have gone down a little bit."

"Sorry I can't do more to help you."

"It's fine, really. I'll get it fixed at Hogwarts."

There was silence for a moment, then Fee asked, "How did you get there?"

Ginny and Fee were sitting in a back corner of The Hanged Man, small glasses of half empty liquor in front of them. When Fee had ordered them, Ginny had raised an eyebrow and asked if she didn't think that being captured and nearly killed deserved a larger drink. Fee, apparently, was not a very firm believer in drunkenness. She simply enjoyed the occasional drink to calm her nerves, and now that she was sufficiently calm, began the chat that she promised Ginny as they were walking toward Little Hangleton.

"We Apparated," Ginny replied calmly.

Fee raised an eyebrow slightly, took a small sip of her drink, and said in an equally calm voice, "I wasn't aware that the sixth years had been taught yet."

"I Side-Alonged." It was the truth, but not in the way Fee assumed. Ginny could Apparate relatively well- she had been taught during the long months in Italy. She had only Side-Along Apparated this time because she had no idea where the Riddle House was.

"I see." Fee regarded her with cool intelligence. "And how did you come to show up at the exact place where I was being held?"

How was she supposed to answer that? Should she tell Fee the truth? The others had told Remus, but that was only because he had eavesdropped on them. Would this be considered an equally reasonable time to reveal their secret? And even if it wasn't, what kind of story could she possibly make up that would explain their actions adequately? Anything that she made up would be even more far fetched and ridiculous than the truth. After all, she hadn't been born with the wildly inventive imagination that the twins had.

"What's that called, when the simplest solution is the best one?" she mused aloud.

"Ockham's razor," Fee replied promptly. "It's not going to be very believable, is it? What you're going to tell me, I mean."

Ginny glanced up at her, surprised. "How could you possibly have guessed that?"

Fee shrugged. "People generally don't think about Ockham's razor unless the explanation for a situation is relatively implausible, and all explanations farfetched as well."

Sighing, Ginny replied, "I guess I'm telling you the truth, then."

And honestly, what else could she have done? Besides the fact that Ginny would be no good at making up a story, Fee would probably be in the room when they returned to Hogwarts and talked to Dumbledore. He knew they were from the future, it would naturally be brought up in the discussion of what they have done, and Fee, not known for being an idiot, would piece it all together anyway. It's best to lay it all out on the table now so there wouldn't be any surprises for anyone later.

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew where to find you because in twenty or so years from now, they'll find the pendant in that house."

"You cannot seriously be suggesting time travel," Fee replied quietly, but she had taken her glasses off and began fidgeting with them- a gesture Ginny recognized as one she made subconsciously when thinking. "The amount of magic it would take to send not only one, but four people back in time twenty years is completely unprecedented. I've never heard of anything even coming close. How would you have done it?"

"I wish we knew," Ginny replied, finishing off the last of her alcohol in a large gulp. "The best explanation Hermione's thought of is that it was Fate. Not the kind of fate that, you know, you find a Sickle in the street and take that to mean that you were meant to go into the next store and buy a new owl, but-"

"The deity, yes, I know," Fee interrupted, her voice distant. "And if he had sent you back in time, what would have been the purpose for that?"

"A second chance."

"At what, exactly?"

Ginny took a deep breath. She was about to make the story even more unbelievable. "At saving the world."

Fee looked up sharply, and Ginny held her hand up to hold off any comment that the older girl had been about to make. "I know it sounds too much like an action novel to really make you believe, and I know it's doubtful that a group of kids, some younger than you, could have that much influence over what's going to happen in the future. I don't. Not really. I'm just a background character in the whole scheme of things, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione… well, if I'm just a pawn, then they're those impressive figures in the back that Ron uses to soundly beat me every time I sit down for a game of chess.

"In the future, Tom- You-Know-Who, will have a whole group of powerful things that he's made to keep him alive. He'll hide them, surround them by wards and dark creatures, and those three will be the ones going around the world destroying them. They're the entire world's hope- the ones who will weaken Tom."

Fee regarded her silently for a long amount of time, thinking over all that she had just said. Finally, pushing her glasses back on her face having apparently made up her mind about believing Ginny, she said, "My pendant's to be one of those things, isn't it?"

For the first time that night, Ginny was glad that she caught on so quickly. "Yes."

"But I've been in the middle of rituals for hours. Rituals that were designed to remove all the warding power out of my pendant. If You-Know-Who wants it to protect his life, wouldn't it have been better to find a way to take it without removing its power?"

Ginny shook her head, "It's not the ward that he's interested in, not really. He wants it because it's Ravenclaw's. Killing you is what would have made it so powerful."

Again, Fee was silent for a moment, piecing everything together in her mind. "Then why did you save me? In your future, I would be dead. I would have been killed to turn my pendant into this powerful object you mentioned. Saving me will no doubt create a few unimaginable side effects in the future."

"That's what this is all about though, isn't it?" Ginny replied quietly. "This second chance- it's about doing things that should have been done the first time around."

* * *

It was nearly eight o'clock when Harry, Ron, and Hermione stumbled into the pub. The sun had disappeared a little while ago, and if Ginny had done as Harry told her to, she wouldn't be there to meet them. She would have taken Fee and Apparated her back to Hogwarts once night fell. She always had been obstinate though, so as soon as he stepped through the doorframe, his eyes darted around the room, searching for a head of red hair. No- that one was blond, no, no, yes- there she was. Sitting in a shadowed corner with two empty glasses and a large plate of food between her and a weary looking Fee. Sighing, he led the others over to them.

"I told you to leave if we hadn't returned by nightfall," he said heavily, sitting down beside Ginny while the other two pulled chairs over to their small table.

Ginny shrugged. "I wasn't planning on completely disobeying you. We were going to leave soon if you didn't show up, but we figured that we would give you a little more time. Besides, I knew you'd come. You always do. And we thought you should have some food in you to wake you up a bit before we go spend the rest of the night with Dumbledore."

"How'd you pay for this?" Ron asked, already eagerly grabbing at the food in front of him.

"I traded my watch," Fee replied, rubbing the place on her wrist where it once rested. "What happened to you three in there?"

They traded wary glances, holding a silent discussion about how much they should tell her. Ginny smiled wryly at Fee then said, "I already told her everything, so you might as well just tell us the truth."

Harry's jaw dropped. She had _told_ Fee? Everything? That made it two people in one night who had found out about them. Was that even allowed? They had told Remus because there was no way around it, but surely she could have thought of _something_ to tell Fee as way of explanation.

To his surprise, Hermione nodded approvingly as she too took some fruit off the plate. "Good. That saves us from having to kick you out of the room when we talk to Dumbledore."

Ron's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. "You agree with what she did?"

Hermione shrugged. "Why not? Fee's involved in this now too. She might as well know that we could have caused some weird, unfathomable loophole by saving her life. I know _I'd_ want to know if I was a walking time paradox."

"So what happened?" Ginny pressed, studying her brother and friends for possible injuries.

"Not much, to tell the truth," Harry replied, finally taking his share of the food before him. "We etched the clue onto the pendent and got out of there before Hermione's spell wore off, but we were only a few feet away from the wall when it did. The place was swarming. You can imagine. Every Death Eater in that place was searching the house and grounds, shooting off random spells whenever they thought they heard something. Ron got hit twice with the conjunctivitis curse-" Ron rubbed his eyes at the memory and Hermione patted his arm sympathetically. "-a crucio flew right past my head once, and a nasty severing charm hit the side of Hermione's skirt."

Hermione showed them the two inch gash running up the length of her skirt.

"It wasn't so bad once we got outside- they were more spread out then. But they were setting off some of the traps, hoping that sooner or later they'd hit us, I guess. None of those really came anywhere near us. I should thank you though, Ginny, for pointing out what the triggers were. We avoided them all, got past the wards easily, and made our way down here as fast as we could."

Fee glanced over at Ginny, one eyebrow raised skeptically. "That's there idea of not much happening?"

Ginny smiled at her, "You should hear the stories they have to tell about the times when it really was eventful."

Fee grimaced. "No thanks, I think I'll pass. Besides, I don't want to become more of a threat to the space time continuum than I already am."

Hermione laughed lightly. "And you guys got out of there okay? No injuries of mishaps that we should no about?"

"Just a few bumps and bruises on Fee from the capture and a sprained ankle for me."

"When did you sprain your ankle?" Harry asked concernedly as he gently lifted her foot up to examine it himself.

"Walking toward town if you can believe it," Ginny replied, wincing slightly at the pressure he was putting on her ankle. "I manage to get through this whole thing with nothing worse than a scrape on my side, then as we're walking down my road I trip and sprain my ankle. That's just my life."

Harry grinned lightly and glanced over his shoulder at the others in the room. "I'll heal this for you once we get to Hogwarts. It wouldn't do us any bit of good if I'm caught breaking the Statute of Secrecy in a time when I don't technically exist." He put her foot down again, wistfully breaking contact with her. "We do need to leave here soon though. Dumbledore no doubt already knows that we've all gone, and we should report to him that Fee's safe before he starts organizing the Order."

"You really think he'd go to the Order for her?" Ginny asked curiously, hopping to her feet while the others also rose wearily.

"Why not?" Harry asked in return, wrapping his arm around her and supporting the side with the injury. "She was kidnapped by Death Eaters, and no doubt he knows that she's descended from Ravenclaw."

"He does," Fee added as they walked to the door. She nodded her thanks to the man at the bar and asked, "What's the Order?"

Hermione patted her arm reassuringly, "You'll find out in time, I'm sure. Now, what do you lot think? The graveyard's probably the only safe place to Apparate from around here."

Harry groaned. "I'd really rather not ever see that place again."

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny looked at him in concern. Ginny squeezed the arm that was around her lightly and smiled up at him sadly when he glanced down at her. He glanced around at the concern on his friends' faces and sighed, "But if it's the only place that will assure that we won't be seen by any Muggles, I'll go there this once."

Ron nodded and began leading the way up the road. "You can Apparate, can't you?" he asked Fee, who had joined him at the front. Her scathing look was answer enough for him.

The rows of dark stones looked eerie in the moonlight. The entire group naturally slowed their pace when they began walking between them, their thoughts invaded with the sense that this was not a place that it would be fitting to hurry through.

Harry's mind was in turmoil. The tombstones swam before his eyes, and in his mind memories mostly suppressed rose. Cedric's face, a silver hand, green light, the phoenix song, a cauldron, a bone, blood, haunting red eyes…

He wasn't sure what happened. One minute he was in the dark graveyard, drowning in memories of his fourth year, and the next he was on the familiar dusty floor of the Shrieking Shack with Ginny staring down at him in concern.

"You were shaking," she said quietly, helping him us. He was still shaking. He could see it when he reached out to take her proffered hand. "I was worried about you, being back there and all, so I Apparated us out before it hurt you too much."

He nodded, unable to say much with the memories still so fresh in his mind. Three pops echoed in the empty room, and Fee, Ron, and Hermione joined them.

"You okay, mate?" Ron asked instantly, worry creasing his face.

Harry nodded. "I'm fine," his voice was too quiet, even to his own ears.

"Come on," Hermione said gently, motioning to the door a little ways away. "We need to get back to the school and talk to Dumbledore."

Harry and Ginny were in the back, leaning on each other for support. When they reached the trapdoor, he heard Ron say jokingly to Fee, "If you thought what just happened was mildly terrifying, wait 'til you see Dumbledore when he figures out what we just did."


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

"Will we all fit under the Invisibility Cloaks?" Harry asked as they stood beneath the Whomping Willow, gazing up at its flailing branches and trying to decide on a game plan before venturing out of the safety of the passageway.

Hermione eyed the five of them appraisingly. "I think that Fee, Ginny and I can all cram under one if we don't mind suddenly feeling as if we've grown closer as friends."

Ginny grinned wryly and threw an arm around Hermione's shoulder. "Well, why not? I'm supposed to be your sister, aren't I? A little closeness probably wouldn't go amiss. Join us, Fee?" She held a hand out to the other girl who took it, albeit reluctantly.

Hermione arranged the three of them so that there was hardly a breath of space between them, then threw the cloak over. "Do our feet show?"

Ron scoffed, covering himself and Harry with the other cloak. "You kidding? Short as you three are, there's no way that cloak doesn't cover you completely."

"If I could see you, brother dearest, I would kick you," Ginny shot sweetly over her shoulder as the girls stilled the Willow and climbed out.

"Brother?" Fee asked quietly, then gasped as Ginny's foot accidentally landed on hers.

"Sorry. It's kind of hard to move like this. Ron's my older brother. He just brothered up with Harry because I showed up later. Ow." Fee had stumbled slightly over Hermione's leg, sending an elbow into Ginny's side.

"I'm sorry," Fee said in her quiet voice. "I suppose you being siblings accounts for your characteristic similarities. Some of us had wondered."

"Has there been speculation?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Over what?" Harry's disembodied voice joined the conversation, he and Ron having finally caught up with the girls.

"Quite a few of us have noticed that Ginny and Ron appear more like siblings than you and he or Hermione and Ginny do," Fee replied, her voice becoming even quieter as they approached the school. "And of course there's been speculation, but what proof does anyone have? You all say that Harry and Ron were adopted in London and that Ginny and Hermione lived most of their lives in Australia. The best guess that people's minds can jump to is that maybe one of Ron or Ginny's parents had an affair and left Ron in an orphanage to hide it. Time traveling companions never crossed anybody's mind, I can assure you. Do you have any idea where you're going?"

"Dumbledore's office," Harry said casually as they approached the first staircase. "You've never been there? I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."

Fee hesitated for half a step, unsure what to make of what Harry had just said. "…Sorry?"

"The map, Harry," Ron told his friend laughingly when Harry's silence made it obvious that he had no clue what Fee was on about. "She doesn't know about it."

Realization flooded through him. "Oh! Well, just- ignore that last bit. They probably wouldn't be too happy if I told you all about the map."

Frustration colored Fee's voice, "If you cannot explain who 'they' are or what this map is, please refrain from mentioning them at all. It inspires far too much curiosity. And as to your question, of course I've never been to Dumbledore's office! What kind of Ravenclaw do you take me for?

Hermione snorted in amusement as she guided the other girl through the turns that led to the Headmaster's office. "If number of times you've been to the headmaster's office determines that, certainly a better Ravenclaw than we are Gryffindors."

"What're you talking about?" Ron asked, sounding incredibly offended. "We're brave aren't we?"

"Oh, undoubtedly," Ginny nodded solemnly (not that he could see). "But how many times have you had to use Slytherin cunning to get out of a situation?"

Ron made a few choking sounds, apparently appalled at being compared to the house he despised, while Harry laughed loudly beside him and pulled them through a hidden shortcut to avoid the patrols ahead.

The gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office was doing a poor job of it when they arrived- the revolving stairs leading to the office could be seen easily past him and he eyed their approaching footsteps without making a move to guard the stairs.

"And I had _so_ hoped to play the Dumbledore's Sweets Guessing Game," Hermione muttered dryly as they ducked around his shoulder.

"You at ten others," the gargoyle shot bitterly after them. "I got exasperated at stepped aside after the fourth."

"I'm not sure if that's good news or bad for us," Ron confided as they let the stairs carry them upwards.

"Bad," Hermione replied definitively. "That's got to be the entire Order as it exists right now up there to see us bringing Fee back."

Harry stepped out of the shelter of the Invisibility Cloak as they neared the door. "We don't need that just now," he muttered sourly. "You lot just stay hidden and try not to knock into anyone for a bit." Taking a deep breath, he reached out and knocked on the door.

Dumbledore answered almost immediately, a puzzled expression on his face. Clearly he wasn't expecting anyone else. When he saw Harry standing before him, his eyes widened for a moment before he gained control of his expression and it returned to its usual joviality.

"Mr. Smith. You should be in your dorm with the others. I'm sure that you'd do well to comfort your friends in this dark night."

Now it was Harry's turn to arrange his face. It was a very hard thing to do- manipulating Dumbledore- but Harry had learned at least a little bit of what worked and what didn't throughout the years. So he did his best to make sure that his expression spoke plainly of the sincerity and severity of what he was going to say, but showed nothing else. Particularly nothing of what he and the other three had just done. "Sir, there's something really important I didn't tell you before. Something about Fee, and I- I think you should probably know immediately." He glanced over the headmaster's shoulder, eyeing the members of the Order, some of them familiar, warily. "Just you, sir."

"Now see here," Moody growled from his place beneath Phineas's portrait. "If this involves the girl it's for all of us to hear. Say what you have to all of us."

Harry widened his eyes in a way he knew Dumbledore would understand- this was a matter involving the future.

Dumbledore shook his head, "No, Mr. Smith's quite right, Alastor. If you all will wait for me out in the hallway, I will hear what this young man has to say then meet with you to begin the search."

There was a great deal of grumbling and shuffling as the others in the room exited as Dumbledore wished. Harry gave a brief prayer that the others had already snuck into the room and weren't caught on the stairwell with the Order before turning his attention back to the headmaster. "You're just beginning the search, sir?"

He was more than a little shocked. It had been several hours since Fee was abducted- more than enough to plan and execute a rescue, as he had already proved. It wasn't like Dumbledore to wait so long when there were lives at stake.

"I can assure you that as soon as Miss Riley was abducted, we had our Aurors trying to pick up a trail. I myself attempted a few more obscure tracking spells, but none of us have been successful. We can only assume that she is heavily warded, and once that fact became evident, I assembled the group you have just seen. We have spent the past few hours trying to decide on a probable location. Now, Mr. Smith- Potter. Time is scarce. Kindly tell me what is so important so that we can find Miss Riley."

"You're not going to be able to find her." Harry was stalling. Was that really such a bad thing? He had no idea how Dumbledore would react, and if he took the rescue unfavorably, Harry would be completely right to try and delay the imminent.

Dumbledore eyed him for a moment. "Mr. Potter, telling me something like that- however minor and disturbing it may be- has the potential to alter your future. Surely you know that. If indeed this is a failed endeavor as you claim, then I intend on going about it just as I will normally, if only to keep events the same as they were in your past."

Harry shook his head. It was now or never, and besides, Dumbledore had given him too good an opening to overlook. "Sir, you don't understand. Nothing we could say to you would matter, because, you see, we've already changed the past."

Dumbledore, who had been searching through his silver instruments, froze instantly. "Excuse me?"

"Well, sir-" the two Invisibility Cloaks were lifted from his friends almost simultaneously. "-we've already gone and got Fee out of there."

Harry couldn't remember the last time he had seen Dumbledore move so slowly. He turned around, moving as if he were buried to his neck in sand, eyes widening when he caught sight of Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Fee. "How did you do this?" His voice was deathly quiet.

"We left about two hours after we left your office." Dumbledore's lack of reaction was worrying him a little bit.

"That does not answer my question." Was there a level that a voice could hit and make danger audible? If there was, then that was just what Dumbledore's voice was doing now.

Harry took an involuntary step backward. "Well- er- we knew where she was going to be, you see. Because we knew about her death. So we waited a few hours making sure that we knew that our plan could quite possibly work, then we- well, we popped off to Little Hangleton…"

"Is this absolute lack of self preservation and intelligent planning something I will come to expect from you, Mr. Potter?"

"Probably, yeah."

"Then let me inform you that you are a fool. Four _teenagers_ against a legion of Death Eaters is nothing more than sheer _idiocy_!"

Harry was slightly stunned. Dumbledore very rarely lost his temper so obviously, and even when he did it didn't seem to invoke the level of terror that Harry was feeling now. He couldn't explain why Dumbledore appeared so startling just now, nor was even why Harry was allowing such a tantrum to stun him so, but all the same it was and he did. Perhaps it was the manner in which Dumbledore was stalking toward him now. The slow, deliberate steps accompanied by the icy glare was more than enough for Harry to feel the full brunt or Dumbledore's power when it was directed in anger. His power hung around him like a cloak, not visible but certainly there. It electrified the air around him. It was more than enough for Harry to realize why Dumbledore was the man whom Voldemort feared.

In a desperate attempt to return this confrontation to something more comfortable, something he knew and could deal with, Harry said something that he would have to the Dumbledore of his time, the one who had known him well. "Well idiocy seems to have worked quite well for us in the past. I figured I'd let it try it's hand again."

"Now is not the time to be impertinent, Mr. Potter! Do you realize that you have severely meddled with time? Have you considered what the repercussions may be? Have you _thought_ at all?!"

Hermione, deciding that it was by far time to give her friend a little aid, stepped forward from where she had been beside Fee. "With all due respect, sir, we generally don't consider the repercussions in situations like this. There isn't the time, and none of us would have been able to live with ourselves had we just sat on our hands when we knew exactly where Fee was, what was happening to her, and when she would die. And yes, sometimes the consequences of acting without thinking are- unfavorable, but quite often it's helped us a great deal. But it doesn't really matter what the results may be on down the road, because we've saved a life tonight, and right now that's all that matters. We had the ability to save her, and so we had the responsibility to choose to do it. I think we made the correct choice. We all do."

Her three friends nodded around her, their eyes all reflecting the same resolute decision that what they had done had been right.

Dumbledore studied them for a moment, then seemed to deflate before their very eyes. "Of course I am not angry that Miss Riley is alive and well. I am simply… The consequences of what you have done cannot be predicted. I believe it was imprudent to simply go off on your own making drastic changes to your timeline, but now that the act has been done, I cannot begrudge Miss Riley her life. I can only hope that what you have done tonight will not have very dire effects on the future."

"That's all we ever hope for, Professor," Ron said quietly from beside Fawkes's stand.

Dumbledore sighed and sat back in his chair. "I want the full story of what you five have done tonight." Fee gave a small yawn, and a smile tugged at the corner of Dumbledore's mouth and he continued, "But not, I think, before you have all gotten some rest. Go to the Hospital Wing, all of you. Have Madame Pomfrey see to whatever hurts you may have acquired, and then I want each of you to receive a dose of Dreamless Sleep potion."

The five teens nodded and began to walk wearily toward the door, the effects of the rescue finally catching up with them.

"And I am glad to see you, Miss Riley," Dumbledore called behind them. "Truly glad. And you four who have rescued her- I am amazed at what you have achieved. Amazed and proud. I hope that someday I may have the honor of helping you to become what you are."

Harry smiled over his shoulder at the man. "You have no idea, Professor. No idea how much you'll do for us."

Dumbledore smiled in return, "As it should be, Mr. Potter. As it should be."

* * *

A/N: Ok, just one quick thing before I leave you all- I know that Dumbledore's reaction may have been a bit… much. But let me defend that real fast.

Dumbledore likes knowing what's going on. He likes being able to predict what will occur and what he can do to make a situation turn out just so. He likes knowing people to the point of being able to predict them, and I think that to him time would be the most dangerous and difficult thing to meddle with simply because it cannot be predicted. How will he know what the effect of the life of someone who should have died will be? I think that, to Dumbledore, changing the past without even pausing to consider all long term effects would be- shocking, repulsive, folly, take your pick. But once he realized that there was nothing he could do to change what had happened, I did turn him back to normal.

So, yeah. That's about all I have to say. Review, my lovlies!


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Dreamless Sleep Potion was perhaps the single most amazing invention in the entire wizarding world, to Harry's thinking. It was amazing what a little sip of it would do. A moment of discomfort (it was, after all, a medicinal potion and tasted as all medicinal potions did) and the rest of the night, nothing but pure, dreamless bliss. That was what he missed most about the future world, Harry decided as he lazily opened his eyes the next morning. He had had Dreamless Sleep potions whenever he needed it then; bottles of that amazing liquid filled an entire trunk (shrunken, of course). It had been much harder to get his hands on some of that miracle elixir in the time period he was currently living in, but the dose Madame Pomfrey gave him last night had been wonderful.

He sat up slightly and glanced around him. Ron to the right, Fee on his left. The curtains hadn't been drawn. How odd. Everyone else in the room was still asleep, it seemed. Had Madame Pomfrey given them a larger dose, or was he just more immune to the potion now? He blinked his eyes slowly, registering that his mind was still in its after sleep stupor, and leaned back, waiting for some clarity to seep into his mind.

"Mr. Smith? Are you awake?"

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. Of course. Madame Pomfrey, omnipresent head of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, sees all, knows all. "Yes, Madame Pomfrey, I'm awake."

He refused to open his eyes as he heard the nurse bustle over. He knew what would come next. Probing, temperature taking, recovery potions, the general checkup. He simply laid back and allowed her to do whatever she wanted to him.

"Well, Mr. Smith, it seems you've healed quite nicely. It really is amazing what a good night's sleep can do for the healing process. Professor Dumbledore's asked me to send you to his office the moment you wake up. Normally I'd never let a patient leave my care so early, but, given the circumstances…" Her voice drifted off and she glanced over her shoulder at a still slumbering Fee. "I think it best that you go talk to him immediately. Your clothes are there at the foot of the bed, and the password to get into his office is peppermint. Alright? I'll just leave you to get yourself together then. Be sure to come back when the headmaster is done with you, I just want to do some final tests, make sure that none of the potions have any adverse effect on you, you know."

Harry nodded and watched her walk away before sighing and rolling off his bed. His clothes weren't the ones he had worn into the hospital wing the night before. He smiled lightly. He didn't care what Hermione said about house elves, if they made sure that he didn't have to wear the dirty, sweaty, battle clothes from the night before, he had no problem with them working in the castle.

Dumbledore would want a full account of what happened the night before. Should he tell him everything? The rescue attempt was fine, but the reason Voldemort wanted Fee, should he say anything about that? Perhaps he should keep quiet about the Horcruxes and let Dumbledore figure it out all on his own, just like he did the first time around. But who was to say that Dumbledore didn't already have an idea about it? In that case, telling him now might be a good idea, so that the location of one of the Horcruxes would be known in the future.

He sighed and rubbed his head. It really was too early in the morning for this kind of time travel thinking. He should just answer whatever questions Dumbledore asks. The man wouldn't ask a question he didn't want the answer to, and given how violently he had responded to the idea of altering time the night before, he probably wouldn't ask anything that Harry would be reluctant to answer. He nodded, having made up his mind, gave the gargoyle the password, and stepped onto the revolving staircase.

"Mr. Potter, ah good. You awoke far earlier than I had anticipated."

Harry hadn't even stepped completely up to the door yet. But that was Dumbledore, always five steps ahead of his students. "I woke up far earlier than I would have liked," he replied, stepping through the doorway.

"Isn't that always the case?" Dumbledore smiled up at him from behind his desk. "But, no matter how often we wish that we could sleep the day away, there are always matters we must attend. Come, have a seat, and let us attend to them." Harry sat down and waited for Dumbledore to continue. "Mr. Potter, what you did last night…foolish, perilous, completely asinine, but I am, nonetheless, curious as to how you accomplished it."

Story time. "Well, we had a bit of help, Professor. We knew about Fee's death, you see. We knew that she was the last of the Ravenclaw line, and that Voldemort wanted to kill her. But we couldn't let her die this time, professor. We _knew_ her, and even if we didn't, none of us can sit by watching when we could have helped. We knew where she was and when she would be killed, so all we needed was a way to get there and a way to get her out."

"Not a way to get back?"

Harry shrugged. "Getting back's the least important thing. Getting there and doing it is what takes the planning. If you've got a plan that works for both of those, you'll have time to figure out how to get back later."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I see. And you plan to get there and save Fee?"

"To get there we had to steal the Marauder's Map, something I'm sure you know about by now." The slight smile on Dumbledore's lips was answer enough. "Yeah, I thought you did. Well, after we got that (and, technically, we didn't even steal it because Remus gave it to us) all we had to do was get out of the school, down to the Whomping Willow and through to the Shrieking Shack, Apparate to where Fee was being held, make out way through the Death Eaters, and get Fee out of there. Simple."

Dumbledore's face adopted the look of one similar to a man who had just heard a man claim that he was the all powerful Queen of Sheba. "_Simple?"_

Harry shrugged. "We've had to plan out more complicated things, believe me. But I figure you don't want to hear about those."

Shaking his head slightly, Dumbledore continued with the questioning, a mild light of respect shining in his blue eyes. "And how, pray tell, did you four teenagers manage to get past all of Voldemort's followers twice?"

"We had an Invisibility Cloak. The hardest part, honestly, was trying to get past all the wards. They were ridiculously complicated. If there hadn't been four of us out there, we would have never managed to get past them."

"And once you were past them?"

Harry shrugged again. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. If he shrugged anymore, he'd have to adopt it as his trademark gesture. "Not much. Just a few ground traps and a handful of patrols, though they did catch us once. Most of them were in with Fee."

"So how did you manage to get past that many Death Eaters?"

"Hermione's handy with spellwork, sir. She's quite good at making her own up. She'd been working on one that would slow down time around the caster so that it seemed to stop. It went on a test drive last night. It apparently worked well, too, but you'd have to talk to Hermione if you wanted a full account of what happened during that time. We just went in, got Fee out, then sent her with Ginny to get out of the house." Dumbledore opened his mouth slightly, but Harry anticipated the question and cut him off. "Ron, Hermione, and I stayed behind to fight off the Death Eaters, make sure they had a clear shot out of the house."

Dumbledore was silent for what seemed like eternity. His steepled fingers tapped against each other. One two three four, one two three four, again and again. Harry just sat, staring. Finally, the Headmaster said, "I must admit, Mr. Potter, I have never come across a student who has impressed me as much as you have right now. I must add, however, that I have never had a student and inanely foolish as you. Even Edgar Allworthy, a former student of mine who was determined to be the first to be accepted into a dragon society and was killed on the first day of the trial, does not match up to the stupidity you have displayed. It was reckless, Mr. Potter. Heroic, to be sure, and admittedly impressive, but foolish nonetheless. I must ask you what made you think you could do this."

And there it was. The Question. He got it all the time. _'Mr. Potter, what makes you think you could possibly take on the Dark Lord?' 'Harry, why do you think you can fight all those wizards when nobody else can?' Why, why, why, can't can't can't._ He never had an answer. He wouldn't have one this time, either.

"It was never really a question of whether or not I could do it, Professor. I could try. There was somebody who needed my help, and I had no reason to say no. I was fully capable of trying to save her, and as long as there is something I _can_ do, then there is something I _will_ do. It's never, 'Do I feel strong enough to duel today?' It's, 'Is there somebody who I have the full capacity to help?' I could help Fee. I knew where she was, and when she would die. So I didn't think past that. I had the advantage over all your searchers, so I used it."

"That's quite a self sacrificing view, Mr. Potter."

Harry grinned. "Hermione calls it a hero complex. She says it will get me killed one day. It probably will."

Dumbledore was silent again. After a long pause, though, he sighed. "Now, Mr. Potter, you are aware that you have perhaps beaten the Marauders for the most school rules broken in one night?" Harry nodded, Dumbledore continued, "As the Headmaster, I cannot let such infractions go unpunished."

Harry nodded grimly, awaiting his punishment. He had always known Dumbledore to be fair. He punished when the rule book said he had to, but he added the human element that the rule book did not possess- he had sympathy and understanding for situations when the rules said there must be only punishment. Rules that were broken for everybody's benefit were accompanied by punishments that were really only for show. Of course, that was the Dumbledore that Harry knew in the future. This teacher, still relatively knew to the position of Headmaster, might be completely different.

"Am I to understand, Mr. Potter, that you are the mastermind behind this scheme? That you concocted the idea and persuaded the others to join in with you?"

A slight dip of Harry's head was the only affirmative motion he made.

"Very well then. It is my duty, therefore, to take away three hundred points. One hundred points for every life besides your own that you endangered last night."

Harry's jaw dropped. Three hundred seemed awfully steep. He hadn't been given any detentions, so really the punishment was slight, but he doubted that his housemates would see it that way.

"However," Dumbledore continued, "You also demonstrated extreme bravery, passion, and caring for Miss Riley. Fifty points for such displays, as well as another fifty points to you, Mr. and Miss Weasley, and Miss Granger for taking the initiative to bring your friend back. Also, I believe Miss Granger deserves an extra hundred points for creating such a spell while still in school."

Harry did the math in his head, and grinned wryly at the result, "So all of that gets us only fifty points? Really?"

Dumbledore grinned back. "Yes, it does seem rather unfair, doesn't it? Very well. Another one hundred points to Miss Riley for bravely enduring such a capture."

"Fee's a Ravenclaw, Professor."

His grin grew. "Yes. And I do believe that extra hundred points puts them well above Gryffindor in the running for the house cup. It seems only fair."

Harry sighed. "I guess it does. But my roommates are going to be hell for the rest of the year."

"Such close quarters are a burden, I'm sure. Perhaps you should flee to the Owlry instead, stay there for the remainder of you time here." He said it with such a straight face and solemn voice that it was impossible to believe he hadn't had some sort of acting practice in the past. "But perhaps the Hospital Wing is the better place for you now. After all, if I don't return you soon, Poppy will be out for my blood. Oh, and Mr. Potter? I am truly proud of what you four have accomplished."

* * *

A/N: Ok, so it was far too short after such a long absence, but like I said- it was really more of a recap for all you lovely reviewers who have been following my story but forgotten what I had written in the past months of inactivity. For anyone who remembered what was happening, or is reading this story straight through for the first time, I'm sorry that you had to go through that. Really, I am. It's all my fault.

Ok, well, read, review, and forgive me!


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

_That is the fifth eleven that you have rolled in a row. _

**So it would appear**.

The bearded player steepled his fingers together, eying the setup of the Game in front of him. _That's the end of the round then. Or would you like to call for an extension? I believe that you could try your luck at arranging it. _

The other player, too, examined the arrangement of the pieces before him. **No. No, I do not believe that an extension will be necessary to my strategy. I would, however, like to request that the traditional clean up roles be allowed, rather than moving instantly into another round. **

Time glanced over his fingers to his opponent, seeming to mull over the possible outcomes of giving in to the request. _I see no reason why the clean up roles not be allowed._ He reached his hand over to a deck of incandescent cards on his right and turned the top one over, revealing a two._ Two moves for each of us, and then the next round. _

* * *

When Harry returned to the hospital wing, his friends were still sleeping soundly; he couldn't detect even a hint of movement from any of them. Sighing, he went in search of Madame Pomfrey, though he knew he needn't have bothered. The woman would know by now that he was back and would no doubt come bustling out, balancing medical instruments and potions. But moving towards her office at least gave Harry something to do.

That was the thing about these adventures. Once they were finished, once Harry had gone out and accomplished all that he had set out to do, there was nothing but emptiness left. It felt as if his sense of purpose had disappeared. Without a goal to move towards, Harry wasn't sure which way to angle his body. With a jolt of surprise, he realized that this was the first in a long time that he had felt this particular sense of listlessness. All throughout the time that he had been traipsing about Europe, even when he, Ron, and Hermione accomplished one of their goals, they still had had a larger one to strive towards- that being, of course, the destruction of Voldemort. It was with a pang that Harry realized that he missed that sense of orientation. It felt…. empty, here in the past. The calm in the storm. And try as he might, he couldn't shake the sudden feeling of restlessness.

"Welcome back, Mr. Smith. That didn't take nearly as long as I thought it might have. You'll have to forgive me; I'm only just collecting the last of your discharge potions. It's only the usual,

you know, Strengthening Solutions, a few immune builders, a swig of vitamins. I'll not have you leave this room unhealthy."

Harry nodded and mutely swallowed all the vials she put before him as she went through all the outpatient procedure. "No dizziness? Do you feel stiff at all? Try moving around a little for me. Very good. If you need any more Dreamless Sleep Potion, come to me tonight, okay? Now go on back to your friends, I'm sure they've been worrying all night."

Nodding once more and bidding the woman good-bye, Harry glanced at his still slumbering friends and began to make his way to the Gryffindor common room. At least, that had been his original destination. When he was outside of one of the shortcuts to the Fat Lady, he paused. A little farther ahead and then to the right would take him to the Room of Requirement. He had to admit, it was an appealing thought- disappear for a little while, not too long, really, just enough time for the others to wake up, and then let them deal with the initial bout of hero worship that was likely to follow their return.

He made up his mind in an instant and turned on his heel in the direction of the Room of Requirement when suddenly a form slammed into him. Harry reacted instantly. Hit the ground, roll, up again, straight at his attacker, wand up at the ready, and…stop. Peter was against the wall, Harry's wand at his throat, knees visibly shaking.

"What the hell was that about, Peter?" Harry all but yelled. His nerves were still on edge; to hell with civility.

"I- I didn't mean to, honest," the smaller boy stuttered. "It's just- one of the Ravenclaws, a- a third year, I think, she saw you leave the Headmaster's office, and she came to tell everyone that you were back, only she ran into me first. And I just came down to see if you were alright and figure out where you had gone, I didn't know you were standing there, honest, I didn't mean to run into you, will you put your wand down _please_?" He stopped then, audibly attempting to catch his breath.

Surprised, Harry glanced down at his wand arm only to find it still aimed at his schoolmate's neck. "Oh. Right. Sorry. Just a little edgy, you see."

"You did it, didn't you?" Peter's voice was little more than a whisper. "You got Fee back. Remus wouldn't tell us what he knew, but it was obvious he knew _something_. He was prowling around the common room all night long, nearly bit off the heads of two first years who asked him if he was okay. And then the night went on, and none of you came back, and Remus was still pacing, well we- we kind of figured you had gone after Fee. But she was with _Death Eaters_. I saw them! How did you get her back?"

Harry sighed. So much for laying low for a little while. How on earth had he managed to stumble into the very questions he was planning on avoiding? Rotten luck, that's what it was. The universe balancing itself out or something. He had gotten away with far too many close breaks last night, and somebody somewhere had decided that just wasn't fair, that was too much good luck at once. Now Harry was getting showered by rotten luck just to tip the scales back in the

other direction. There had better not be a basilisk or evil teacher anywhere nearby; Harry wouldn't be able to save anybody at this moment in time.

"Well?" Peter asked impatiently, cutting Harry's furious musings short.

"Look, yes, we got Fee back, alright? But I don't want to talk about it right now, so if you could just-"

"How'd you do it?" Peter eagerly interrupted. "_Why'd_ you do it? You couldn't have possibly thought you'd get away with it! But you did! That's just so incredible."

There was only one thing that could be said about Peter with absolute certainty. He was awed by power. James, Sirius, and Remus had it; later he would discover that Voldemort had it; now he saw it in Harry, too, and he was fascinated. Harry shook his head. It seemed that there were some aspects of a person's character that couldn't be changed. But then, he had never promised Hermione that he would wring the fascination of power out of Peter. He had only agreed to help the boy stand on his own two feet. There was nothing wrong with looking up to mighty people, after all. Wasn't that what heroes were for? It would just be nice if Peter could have his heroes and not need to sacrifice himself in the process.

"Look, Peter, I didn't know if I could get away with it. I just decided to try, that's all. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione too. We all wanted to help her."

"But you barely know her!" Peter exclaimed, his face twisting up as he tried to understand. "You only just met her at the start of this year, and you could have been killed trying to save her. You _should_ have been killed. Why would you do it?"

There was the question again. Here was yet another person wanting to know why Harry Potter had gone off and acted in a very Harry Potter-ish manner. But he sensed, somehow, that the question held a certain weight when coming from Peter. Somehow, Harry knew, he had to try and answer the question this time. He couldn't just shrug and mutter something about a hero complex and responsibilities. No. Peter was trying to understand loyalty. He was trying to understand friendship on the level that Harry had demonstrated. It was a big step in the right direction, Harry thought. If Peter's life was the Industrial Revolution, then this question was equivalent to the creation of the steam engine.

"She's my friend," Harry explained. "And more importantly, she's a human being. It doesn't matter how long I've known her for, does it? Her life isn't worth any more or less than my own. The fact that I know and care about her only made it more important that I try to help her. I mean, if I had been taken, I know I would hope that somebody cared about me enough as a person to try and save me. She didn't deserve death at the hands of those murderers, and I couldn't bear the thought of it happening to her… Think about this for a second. Imagine that, instead of Fee, it was, I don't know, _James_, who had been taken. He's been one of your best friends for years. How would you feel if you knew he was about to be killed?"

"I would… I would feel horrible. James always accepted me, him and the rest of the Marauders."

"So you feel it, don't you?" Harry pressed. "That need to do _something_? If James had been the one captured, wouldn't you want to try and save him the same way I wanted to save Fee?"

Peter bit his lip, his expression turned inward. "I know I would feel miserable. But… I don't know if I would be able to try and save him. Where do you get that kind of courage from?"

"Love," Harry replied simply.

The other boy nodded slowly, still looking pensive. "I don't know if I could feel that depth of emotion. Are you sure it's not just a fluke with you? You got something hardwired into you that most of humanity missed out on?"

Harry grinned slightly. "It's been suggested before that I do have a bit of a problem, yeah. But I don't think that's true. Just look at the other three; they went with me, didn't they? They felt the same compassion for Fee as I did, so I can't be the only one. And besides, I know for a fact that you'd be able to feel an emotion so strong that it compelled you into doing something."

"You- you do?" Peter stuttered.

"You drew those pictures, didn't you?" Harry replied, referring to the sketches he had seen only three days before. "Don't worry, Peter. I have faith in you. I know that, if the situation ever came up, you would do the right thing." He tried his hardest to make those words sound sincere. Deep in his heart, he wanted to scream the exact opposite. There was still a little part of his mind that still wanted to pummel the student for the man he might become, but Harry silenced that part. He was trying to help, not encourage what was not yet into being.

The two were silent as Peter considered the weight of all Harry had said. Finally, though, he seemed to put his musings aside for another time and asked, "What about the others? Are they doing alright? Nothing's happened to Fee, has it?"

"Fee's fine," Harry assured him. "We got to her before they had a chance to do anything. They're all still in the hospital wing sleeping. I seem to be more immune to sleeping draughts than they are."

"Well that's good news, then, isn't it, that they're alright? Then why do you look like hell?"

Harry snorted, less than amused by his fellow's blunt honesty. "I did just help to rescue a Death Eater captive, you know."

Peter looked down, reddening slightly. "Sorry. I didn't mean…."

Sighing, Harry shook his head. "No, don't worry about it. It's more than just getting Fee back, anyway. Ginny came along…"

"And you two never talked," Peter finished matter-of-factly.

"Well, we kind of did," he shifted uncomfortably as he spoke. "I mean, before we went to get Fee, I tried, but Ginny told me I couldn't apologize just because I thought we were going to die. And she might have been right, but that wasn't the only reason I was apologizing to her, I really want things to be okay between us, and maybe the fact that we faced possible death influenced me into talking, but really, what I said was sincere enough…"

"What did you do that you had to apologize for?" Peter asked curiously. "Last time we talked, all you had decided to do was explain to her why you kept pushing her away."

"Oh. I- um- I just- I said some things. Things I really shouldn't have. And I feel horrible about it, she just wouldn't listen!"

"Well, you're not on your possible death beds right now, why don't you go make things right? There's no danger at all right now, she can't possibly accuse you of ulterior motives."

Harry hesitated. Ginny was probably still asleep, or just waking up. Then again, if he waited until she was dismissed and then intercepted her on her way to the common room, talking to her would have the added bonus of not only setting his mind at ease, but also keeping him away from the Gryffindors as the story of Fee's rescue was told.

"Yeah… yeah, I think I will. Why don't you go back to the tower and tell everyone we're okay and that they should get to question the others whenever Madame Pomfrey discharges them?"

"Yeah, alright," Peter agreed, turning back to the passageway that had remained open behind them the entire time that they had been talking. "Good luck!" He turned on his heel and disappeared up the staircase, the passageway finally closing behind him.

Harry leaned back against it for a moment or two before deciding that he felt absolutely ridiculous waiting for Ginny against that blank patch of wall. Besides, his nerves wouldn't allow him to stand still. He knew that he had already spoken to her and apologized once before, but somehow this time seemed more important. It felt as if he absolutely _had_ to get it right this time, or there would be no other chance for him ever again. His hands were practically shaking as he strode back to the hospital wing.

He glanced inside for a moment when he got there to see his friends awake and obediently swallowing the potions that they were handed. Rather than walking in and catching the attention of the nurse, who would, more likely than not, assume that he was returning due to an ailment and not let him leave again for the rest of the day, he chose to lean just outside of the doorway and wait for the little redhead to walk past.

It didn't take long. She was the first one to leave, and when she saw Harry, her face registered no surprise. Harry guessed that she had been expecting him. She did, after all, know him better than the majority of the world. "Well then," she said, not once breaking her stride but simply allowing Harry to fall in step beside her, "was there anywhere in particular you wanted to talk?"

"It doesn't really matter, does it?" Harry asked, not looking at her for fear that his nervous composure would shatter. "The halls are completely empty, what with the students still thinking there's a threat out there, so if we want a private place, we can just stop wherever."

Ginny, apparently, was willing to take him at his word. She turned slightly into one of the adjacent hallways so that her brother and Hermione wouldn't run into them on their return to Gryffindor tower, crossed her arms, raised an eyebrow, and said, "So?"

Harry took a deep breath. His thoughts had been running in circles earlier: what to say, how to stand, how to tell her exactly how he felt. Suddenly, though, everything was quiet. The maelstrom of nerves inside his body died instantly, and he was left feeling hollow as he gazed at the woman in front of him. At least the lack of internal noise made it easier for words to come out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry, Gin. Sorrier than I think I ever have been in my life. You have to understand, why I said that thing about you and the diary, I just didn't want you hurt. I couldn't bear the thought of you coming along and- and maybe getting killed. So I said what I thought would make you stay behind because you would be so shocked and so mad at me that you just… I don't know. I didn't really think it out. Would you have expected anything else out of me?" He took her hands in his. "I _am_ sorry, Ginny. When I saw your face after I said that… I just wanted to find a nice little hole and die. I couldn't bear the thought that I had made you so angry. And then of course I tried to make up with you before we went to Riddle House; I didn't want anything to happen to either of us with us feeling like that. But you said you couldn't forgive me then. I just want to know- can you forgive me now? Because I've never wanted it so badly in my entire life."

Ginny took one of her hands out from Harry's grasp and laid it gently on his cheek, a small smile on her face. "I told you, did I, you silly man? I told you I would want to forgive you when this whole thing was over. It was only a question of you wanting it. But listen, Harry. It comes with a price. The cost of my forgiveness is this- you stop running away from us. You accept that I'm smart enough to make my own decisions about the danger that you say is in our relationship, and you let there _be_ a relationship. I'm not going to forgive you only to have you run away from me again, Mr. Potter. It hurts too much."

Harry leaned his face into her hand, sighing lightly. "Have I ever explained to you why I keep holding you away from me? I mean, besides the basic, 'I want to protect you' explanation?" Ginny shook her head and Harry sighed again. "I thought not. I'm a very selfish person, Ginny. You have to look past all those bothersome anomalies of self sacrificing moments to see it, but I really am. So many people have died just because I exist, and it keeps getting harder and harder every time I hear a death associated with the war. Because when it all comes down to it, they're all dead because of me. And more often than not, just as soon as I grow to love someone, they're killed. My parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione even, if only for a moment. And every time that happens, something shatters inside of me. I thought… well, I still think, actually, that if your name were added to that list, whatever inside me that keeps breaking a little would shatter beyond repair. And so I pushed you away in my own self defense. You fought with us last night, though, and you got Fee out of there alive. I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you, 'No, stay away' again, will I?"

Smiling lightly, Ginny shook her head, "No. No, you won't." Suddenly she leapt forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into his shoulder. Her voice was muffled as she said, "You're a fool. You're a sweet, heroic, absolutely dense fool. I felt the exact same way every day as I sat in that _room_ praying that you were alright. But I didn't want to be away from you, did I? We're involved in a war, Harry. Either of us might die at any moment, especially you, all things considered. Of the two of us, you're far more likely to leave me on this earth with a broken heart. But I wouldn't want you to die away from me. I would rather stay with you, Harry, just in case these _are_ our last days. Leave this world with no regrets."

A sudden thought came into Harry's head and he chuckled lightly as he hugged her tightly too him. "You're far too much for me to handle."

Ginny looked up, grinning impishly. "I know. It's why you love me." With that, she stood up on her tiptoes, shifted her hands from the resting place on the back of his neck to his hair, and kissed him.


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Harry and Ginny remained in the hallway for some time, enjoying the simple pleasure of being alone when nothing else needed done and no one cried out for rescuing. They were wrapped around each other in silence, Ginny's forehead resting on Harry's collarbone while his arms held her securely against him. "I missed this," he murmured into her hair, finally breaking the silence.

"Mm", was all that she replied for a few moments. Then, "Do you think we've given Ron and Hermione enough time to calm down the first wave of curious housemates?"

Harry chuckled lightly. "I'm glad that you know that's what we were waiting for down here."

She took that as a yes and began to pull away, but Harry's arms tightened minutely. "We haven't given them nearly enough time."

Ginny rolled her eyes but stopped trying to move. "If we leave them alone for too long they're going to come find you so that they can throw you to the wolves to punish you for letting them deal with them alone for too long."

"So protect me. You wanted to fight, right?"

"Come on, hero," she replied laughingly. "Time to man up."

He sighed in defeat and let one of his arms drop. The other remained draped around her waist as they began to slowly make their way towards the common room. "What do you think the story is? Do you think they told them the complete truth about what we did?"

Ginny snorted. "I hope so. Imagine the awkward conversations we might have later when Fee swings by and says, 'Hey, guys, thanks for pulling me out of that mansion crawling with Death Eaters. I really appreciate it.'"

"I meant more along the lines of did they tell them about the wards, or the traps, or Hermione's spell? Did they explain anymore than to say, 'We went to the Death Eaters' lair and got the girl out'?"

"Boy, I bet you're sorry that you waited so long, now, hmm? Sure would have been helpful to tolerate the onslaught of hero worship so that we could all collaborate on a story."

Harry pushed her lightly as they arrived in front of the portrait. "Don't be so practical. I didn't see you rushing to get here in time to hear your brother practice his storytelling technique."

"That's because there are very few people in this world who have done something bad enough in their previous lives to deserve _that_ sort of punishment," Ginny replied lightly, staring, as Harry did, at the Fat Lady before them. Her eyebrow was raised in expectation, but neither of the teens before her made an attempt at the password. "What do you think's going on in there right now?"

"The usual," Harry replied, shrugging. "People trying not to stare obviously. A lot of whispering. Rumors of a bionic wand hand."

"A what?"

He smiled slightly. "Nothing. Come on, let's get this over with."

It is a wonderment of mankind that, no matter how much time passes, human beings remain essentially the same. They will react the same way to certain situations whether they are wearing corsets and top hats or leather pants and jean jackets. After somebody does something especially heroic, the reaction of those who know the hero will be the same, no matter the time period.

Unless, of course, the time period that one is visiting is home to the teenage Marauders.

The second Harry and Ginny cleared the entryway, a bottle of firewhiskey was pressed into both of their hands. "Hey there, it's the rest of the party!" Sirius cried joyfully. "Come get drunk with me! The ever lovely Hermione has refused me, and I can now only hope to get you, my equally lovely Ginny, so utterly sloshed that you offer none of your trademark rejections when I whisk you away to my bed." Harry growled slightly, his hand on Ginny's hip tightening. Sirius glanced at him with a grin and a wink. "You too, Harry. I'm really not that picky after my third or fourth bottle. Drink up!" He waltzed away then, spinning in time to whatever music he heard in his head.

Harry had become slightly green. "Did he just….?"

"Offer you a night of drunken sex before he gets old and becomes your godfather?" Ginny supplied. "Yes." She charmed the top off of her bottle and took a swig. "Offered me the same thing, minus the godfather bit. In fact, in the years to come, I won't be connected to him in any way, there's no reason for me to feel even the slightest bit awkward…"

Harry's sickly pallor increases significantly. "That's not funny!"

Ginny shrugged. "I amuse myself. They must keep cases of this stuff lying around just waiting for an excuse to throw a party. There's no way they had time to listen to Ron and Hermione _and_ pop off to Hogsmeade."

"Are you kidding?" Ron asked dryly, having come up beside them while she spoke. He cast a dirty glance at Ginny's open bottle before snatching it out of her hands and claiming it as his own. "You don't need to be drinking this stuff. Anyway, we got here and they were already unloading bottles and transfiguring tables. They didn't even ask about what happened." He appeared a bit miffed that his part in the rescue operation had gone untold.

Remus wandered over to join them, holding in his hand not a bottle but a smaller glass. "I don't really intend on becoming forget-which-bed-is-yours drunk," he explained when he met Harry's curious glance. "I'm glad that you two are okay. Ron and Hermione came back alone, and Peter had told us that he had already talked to you, Harry, but I was still worried when you didn't come back immediately. Is Fee…?"

"She's fine," Harry assured him. "A bit bruised, but we all are."

"So you got her and that necklace of hers out just fine, then. No lasting damage to anyone."

Harry scuffed his toe lightly against the carpet, "Well, erm, you're right, there's no lasting damage at all. And we got her out just fine. But we left the pendant behind."

Remus looked at him curiously and took a sip from his glass. "But I thought you said that Voldemort wanted to kill off the Ravenclaw line and assume something that belonged to its founder. You stopped him from killing Fee, why not stop him from acquiring the pendant, too?"

"We wanted to leave some part of our future intact," Ron supplied.

"Or at least hope that by leaving that there your futures will be a little similar," Ginny pointed out. "You lot don't know what saving Fee will do to the world; you're just hoping that by leaving the clue behind some part of your hunt stays the same."

Ron scowled at her and pushed the bottle he had stolen back into her hands. "Merlin, I'd rather you were drunk than pessimistic."

Ginny scoffed. "I don't intend on getting drunk, thank you. I wouldn't have the good sense to stay away from Sirius when he came on to me."

Harry and Ron protested loudly and in unison. Remus seemed to find the situation oddly humorous. He toasted Ginny with a smile before turning to join the rest of the students gather happily in the center of the room. "I'm glad you're all okay, truly," he called over his shoulder as he moved away.

Hermione noticed his return and looked behind him to where her friends were clustered. She grinned and caught Harry's eyes, gesturing them over. "Harry! Ron, Ginny, come over here and look at this! You're going to just die!"

The group exchanged slightly worried glances before weaving through the outliers of the party to join Hermione nearly at its center. She was grinning broadly and hovering over Peter who sat on the floor, quill and parchment below him. When Harry caught a glimpse at what he was doing down there, he groaned aloud. The boy was sketching. Or, more accurately, he _had_ sketched and was now finishing up with a bit of shading. More importantly, it was the most ridiculous image Harry had ever seen.

Standing in the foreground with his arms crossed stoically before him and a booted foot resting atop the back of a fallen Death Eater was a cartoon version of Harry dressed as some sort of wizarding superhero. He appeared to be clothed in a traditional tight fitting spandex superhero outfit with dragonhide boots, his wand poking out of a utility belt, and a black wizarding cape, hood placed carefully atop the crown of his head, flowing behind him. A cartoon Ron stood to his right and behind him a little, wearing the spandex but not the cape, and smirking down at the Death Eater while shooting victory sparks into the air. Hermione was beside him looking, to Harry, more like Wonder Woman than his friend. She stood with her hands on her hips, hair flowing behind her, in a small black leotard and her wand holstered on her thigh. Cartoon Ginny stood smirking to Cartoon Harry's left, one hand resting on a hip that was jutting sideways and the other hanging at her side, her wand loosely held between two fingers. She wore a shirt with a hemline just below her chest, tight pants, and what appeared to be a Hogwarts robe made of leather. Sitting cross legged on the ground beside her, dressed in a simple Hogwarts uniform, and gazing up adoringly at the "superheroes" fanning out beside her was a drawing of Fee.

"Alright, James!" Peter called out as he put the finishing touches on Harry's glasses, making them appear to gleam. "Finished!"

James twisted his wand in some pattern that Harry didn't recognize, and in an instant the picture was no longer on the parchment. He relaxed for a moment before realizing that it was instead enlarged to at least five times its size on a sheet that was hanging against one wall. It was then that a sound escaped Harry quite on its own volition. In the years that would come, Harry would forever deny the knowledge of ever having _heard_ of such a sound, let alone made it. Those who were present that night, however, can- and frequently would- testify that when he got a good look at the more-than-lifesize image plastered on the common room wall, the only thing that could be heard from him was a tiny, soprano "_eep!"_

A rousing cheer, led by a slightly more than tipsy Sirius, accompanied the appearance of the image while James clapped Peter on the back. "Right then! A toast to that wonderful piece of art, may it reside upon these walls forevermore!"

"Not if I can help it," Harry muttered darkly while those around him raised their bottles in the air and Ron nearly convulsed he was laughing so hard.

"You know," Ginny said speculatively, "Fee is going to quietly charm away all the hair on their bodies when she hears about the way she was drawn."

Sirius heard her and smiled broadly, coming back to them with four open bottles in his hands. He passed three of them to Hermione, Harry and Ron and took a swig from the fourth. "Fee would _never_ get rid of my hair. You wanna know why?" He leaned in towards them conspiratorially and stage whispered, "She wants my body! She does, in point of fact, want my body so much that she would not harm a single hair on my head, which is, in fact, a part of my body making the hair upon it a very important part of my body, which she wants so very much. So she may hex away the hairs from Peter's head. She may leave James a pile of smooth flesh, sodden with tears, on the floor. She may even see fit to shave dear Moony! But she would _never_ do anything to _my_ body…. But I'd be willing to bet you I look damn sexy bald!"

Hermione twirled her wand around a few times. "Five sickles says you look like an egg shaped fool."

Harry laughed, swallowing a mouthful of firewhiskey and blanching as it burned down into his stomach.

Ron nudged him with his elbow. "I'd go for it, Sirius, unless you think your sexy is dependent upon your hair."

Sirius looked affronted and Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. Ron grinned and shrugged. "Two of those sickles are mine if you win."

"My sexy could _never_ be taken away!" Sirius cried. "Do your worst you awful, hopefully sober woman with a wand!"

Hermione twisted her wand and silently charmed away all of Sirius's hair. It was then that the four time travelers realized something about him that they had never before been able to guess. Sirius, without his hair to hide it, had an oddly flat crown. Ron instantly dissolved into yet another fit of laughter, and Harry guessed that the bottle in his hand was not his first. "Two sickles to me!" he crowed.

Ginny, unable to keep a straight face, leapt atop the nearest table. "Ladies and gentlemen!" She called out, spreading her arms wide. "I have tonight for your viewing pleasure a specimen never before seen by wizard kind! It emerges into society only rarely, and never without being first accompanied by its dear companion Intoxication. My dear, _dear_ Gryffindors, I would like to present before you-" she reached down and yanked Sirius up to join her on her makeshift stage. "A Hairless Marauder, genus baldicus pupicus. Ladies and gentlemen, I beg to put before you this question," she stepped back slightly, eyes raking the shaven form of Sirius. "Does anybody consider this to be a sexy species?"

There were a few murmurs of assent, but the majority of the students watching the spectacle were enjoying a hearty laugh at Sirius's expense. "Well then," Hermione stated brusquely. "I suppose that settles that matter, doesn't it." She raised her hand up to Sirius. "Five sickles, please. And don't tell me you don't have it on you, I've seen that change purse you always keep so that you can collect on the bets you win. Or, in this case, pay up for the one you've lost."

Hanging his reflective head and sighing dejectedly, Sirius sat down on the edge of the table and fished out five silver coins for the brunette. "She'll never love me now!" he bemoaned as he passed them over.

"Nonsense," Hermione replied as she passed two of the coins to Ron's awaiting hand. "I only charmed your hair invisible, it'll wear off by the morning. Though I do hope that someone around here has a camera available so that we can forever cherish this moment."

Sirius whimpered slightly, sounding more like his Animagus form than Harry had heard in quite a long while, before quickly tipping back his bottle to finish its contents and wandering off in search of less cruel playmates.

The rest of the night passed in a blur for Harry. As he went to bed that night, he thought that he could vaguely recall the events that transpired. Ron and the still bald Sirius danced a barefoot jig in the middle of a table lined with empty bottles. A sixth year girl managed somehow to make the sketch of the superhero suits sparkle, much to the delight of James, who then spent at least half an hour turning the sparkles different colors to suit his mood. His parents making out in a corner. Ginny shooting bubbles out of the tip of her wand to a gaggle of intoxicated students who attempted to burst all of them using only karate moves. Sometime after that he was pretty sure that he and she had done their fair share of snogging as well, and maybe that's where the clouded memory of Ron being chased away from them by fluorescent orange hummingbirds came from.

He grinned sleepily as he pulled the covers over his head, hiding his dark haired frame from the world. No matter how vague his memories of the night were, he could recall without a shadow of a doubt that he currently felt more content than he ever had in the past years of his life.


	28. Chapter 27

A/N: Sorry. That's really all I have to say. I suck at juggling life and writing. But I'm going to try harder these next months of July and August. There are really only three more chapters left, so I think I should have it done before the next school year. And now, for those of you who for the life of you cannot remember what the hell this story is about (I hold nothing against you, I wouldn't be able to remember either), here is a brief recap:

Harry and Co fought dear Voldie up somewhere in Russia, my geography is indistinct and pointless, but no matter. Voldemort very nearly won, but thanks in part to an equally vague game between Fate and Time, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sent back to MWPP in order to wrestle out a second chance. I accidentally wrote Ginny out of the first bit of the story, so to fix that I sent her in later, as a pawn of Time to cause a distraction to Harry. It worked for a while. He was all sucked up into that teenage love struck angst, but because of it he formed a sort of bond with Peter the Artist (ie the Boy Before He Was Wormtail). Then Fee, one of Lily's friends and consequently the last descendent of the Ravenclaw line, was kidnapped so that Voldemort could steal her pendant (this story was begun before DH) and kill her to make a Horcrux. Luckily, Harry and Co saved her, returned safely, and partied it up in the Gryffindor common room.

Chapter 27

Harry awoke the next morning and promptly wished that he hadn't. He squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to wish so hard that, with sheer brainpower alone, he would dissolve into thin air, never having to open his eyes and deal with the world again. He even went so far as to weakly clap his hands a few times, a vague thought of if it had worked on Tinkerbell, it should work for the Boy Who Lived flitting to the surface of his mind. The world, however, is a persistent beast of an entity that does not care who has control over it, and so it refused to bow down to the power of the Chosen One, even if he was the one destined to save it.

In time- quite a bit of time- Harry allowed his eyes to squint open as he mentally took stock of his current status. His head was pounding, his stomach was clenched nauseously around nothing, and his entire body felt as if every drop of water had been sucked out of it. Groaning slightly, he moved to roll off the bed only to discover that, when he moved, it felt disjointed, as if he were the star in one of those old, choppy black and whites where you could see the actors moving frame by frame. He hit the floor on his hands and knees, and his too-big-for-his-body feeling head swam. With a slight groan, he managed to drag himself up using the aid of one of his bed posts and shuffled into the bathroom, noting as he did that he was the only one in the room mobile.

He locked himself in a shower stall, sinking to the ground as he let the cool water flow over him, begging that his body absorb every drop of it to get rid of the swollen, dry feeling that now existed in his limbs. Every once in a while he would acknowledge that he was being an idiot to think it would work that way, and he would then tilt his head back slightly and allow some of the water to flow into his mouth. But then his head would throb from the movement and he would pull it back up again.

How long he remained seated on the floor of the shower was up for debate; Harry certainly wasn't keeping track of the minutes. Eventually, though, another shuffled in, his weary gait mirroring Harry's earlier. "Tha' you', 'arry?" The person slurred, and Harry identified the voice and early morning inarticulate words as James's.

Harry groaned in response.

"Yeah," James yawned. "I'm abouta go wake th'others. Head on down-" he yawned again, "fer some coffee… n' toast. You shou' climb outta there'n join us. Be th'only clean one on the mornin' after. M'rauder tradition, ya know. Smell bad at hangover lunch."

Harry groaned again, not entirely sure how James managed to put so many words together. He heard a gargle and a spit before James spoke again, his words much more English sounding now that he had had the time to wake up a little.

"Mm hmm. It'll take me a while to pull the others out of bed, so you stay in there and pity yourself for a little while longer. We'll wait for you down in the common room, and then we can all head down to the Great Hall before lunch ends."

Control over words came back to Harry long enough for him to groan, "No food."

James laughed slightly. "Yes, food. It feels awful right now, I know, but with a bit of substance and a lot of glasses of water your insides will go back to feeling like normal, I promise. Come on then. Work up the strength to move and meet us down there in a few."

His footsteps retreated, and Harry was left alone again. He glanced down at his hands and saw that they were completely shriveled. Maybe he had been in there a bit too long, then. And the water, however nice it had felt originally to rinse off whatever late night grit had accumulated, certainly wasn't doing anything to make him feel any better. But still… _movement_. No, not quite yet. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, thoughts drifting into silence as he pretended that nothing besides the darkness existed.

"Harry!" That was Hermione's voice. Sweet Merlin above, but she was loud if her voice was carrying all the way into the seventh year's bathroom. Didn't that kind of volume make her head spin? "Harry, come on! Get out of that stall and throw whatever clothes are closest on. You need to eat, and we're all starving waiting for you."

Harry was willing to bet that whoever "we all" were, they were not, in fact, starving, but rather wishing that Hermione and her screeching would just drop dead. Regardless, he recognized her summons as perhaps the only reason he would have to get out of the water, and since he couldn't count on himself to work up the motivation without a reason, he allowed for her cajoling to call him out of the bathroom. He slowly charmed himself dry, pulled on the discarded pair of pajamas he had left pooled on the ground earlier, marveled that he had been _wearing_ actual pajamas earlier, and made his way to the staircase without even a glance in the mirror.

The stairs were too steep. Harry was certain they had never been this steep or this long before. He glared at them as he clutched onto the handrail and descended one slow step at a time. Wasn't it just like Hogwarts to change its architecture on the most inconvenient day for him? He was so focused on watching to make sure that one foot was placed carefully in front of the other that he didn't realize that he had reached the common room until he heard a loud gasp and a quiet, "Oh, no."

Curiously, he looked up. It looked to be only the small group of seventh years, plus Ginny, who were gathered there. His eyes focused first on Hermione whose hands were covering her mouth and whose eyes were so wide they were in danger of popping out. "What?" Harry asked quietly as he allowed his gaze to shift from one person to the next, all of them displaying some form or another of shock.

Ginny was worrying the corner of her lower lip. Sirius was blinking hard and looking as if he wasn't sure that he was really awake yet. Elaina, eyes already far larger than any human being's had a right to be, was looking like she was trying to beat Hermione at The Who Can Make Their Eyes Larger Game. Arnau was clutching onto her shoulder, glancing at Harry, then the girls around him, then James, then back at Harry. Lily was biting down on her thumb, a confused frown etching lines into her forehead, and James did nothing but look as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or scream.

Footsteps akin to a heard of rampaging rhinos trampled down the stairs behind Harry. Apparently Ron was late in joining the group, too. "Oy, Harry, you're blocking traffic. Why's everyone standing around; I thought we were going tooo-oh… no." He stopped when he came face to face with Harry on the stairs.

"I wish everyone would stop looking at me like that," Harry grumbled, glaring at his friend.

"Harry…" Ron trailed off. "You're… er, well…"

"Is this some kind of joke?" James deadpanned. "Because if it is, you've obviously not been around us long enough. It's not funny."

It was too early (no matter how late in the day it really was) for this. "Is _what_ a joke?" Harry asked, frustrated. "Look, if you're not going to tell me what the bloody hell you're all standing around for, then I'm just going to go back upstairs and crawl into bed and die."

Remus, who stood, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, leaning against the back of one of the couches, replied mildly, "You never mentioned that you look exactly like James."

It took a moment for Harry to comprehend. When he did, though, his eyebrows flew into his hairline. His _black_ hairline. "Hermione!" he gasped. "What-?"

"I'm sorry, Harry!" She gushed in reply, hands falling from her mouth to hang limply at her sides. "The party, I- I didn't realize. It's the end of the month. Time to- to refresh… the spells. I'm sorry! It's my fault, I should have realized, I shouldn't have- shouldn't have let you go to bed last night without the charms, and oh, _Merlin_, now look at you!"

"It would appear that everyone already _is_," Harry replied sourly.

"I don't understand," James said, detached. "You're practical joke has no story behind it. So you look like me now. So what? Where's the chuckle? Do you hear a chuckle? I am not chuckling, Harry. This is a failed attempt. Please drop the glamour."

"Erm…"

Lily, seeming to sense that this lookalike situation was somehow distressing James, attempted to fix it when Harry made no immediate move to do so himself. "Finite Incantatum", she incanted. Nothing happened.

"Finite Incantatum Glamorae?" Aranau attempted a bit more specifically, resulting once more in failure.

"I don't think it's a glamour, guys," Elaina offered reluctantly.

"Then what the hell is it?!" James nearly screamed.

"I think that's how he really looks, Jamey," Sirius stated, rubbing his eyes a little. "You think one of your uncles put a bastard baby up for adoption?"

"If that were the case then why would he try to hide his appearance before he even met James?" Remus asked, still coolly leaning against the couch.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all turned to stare at him, silently demanding to know why he was prodding the rest of the seventh years in the right direction.

Remus shrugged. "I was going to tell them anyway. Something like this, I think they deserve to know, don't you? I get your secrecy, but speaking as a member of the party who was being kept in the dark, I don't like it. They won't like it either, and I'm going to make sure you tell them. If you don't, I will, but I have to admit I'd rather you four were the ones who came off sounding like loonies."

"Tell us _what?_" James demanded, now looking furiously between Harry and Remus. "What the hell do you know that I don't, Remus? It's part of the Code, no important secrets!"

"Which is why I was going to tell you, if you missed that bit," his friend replied. "Now. Let's all head up to our dorm, yes? Someplace where the first years won't come stumbling in on us?"

Harry knew that, considering the situation he was in, what with the spells wearing off and looking like his father's twin and all, he should have more important things to worry about. He acknowledged in some shadowed corner of his brain that the fact that Remus never planned on keeping their secret should have set off the panic bells, and the upward movement of them all towards the seventh year boys' dorm should have incited within him the overwhelming urge to run so fast not even apparation could possibly catch up to him. But no. Somehow the only thing he could remain focused on as he trudged up towards who knew what sort of doom by veracity was how much he hated whoever had the gall to notice his lack of spells before his head had stopped pounding. It was perhaps the worst time in the history of Harry Potter to have a hangover.

He was given not a moment of relief, though. The moment they made it into the dorm, Remus charmed the door closed, and James spun on Harry, his arms crossed sullenly, and asked, "So why would you think this is so funny?"

"You're the only one here who keeps insisting that I'm joking!" Harry snapped, slumping down on his bed. "I haven't once agreed with you, so why don't you just drop the funny thing, okay?"

"Harry?" Ginny asked quietly, sitting down on the bed beside Harry's head and placing one cool hand on his throbbing temple. "Maybe this isn't the best time to go and offend James, hmm? Considering."

"Considering _what_?" James, Sirius, and Elaina asked in unison.

"Considering I'm about to have to tell you I'm your bloody _son_, and that we've all been thrown twenty years in the past by some force we don't know in order to change God knows what, and somehow now even though we wanted to keep it a secret I'm having to tell everybody! I should just cast a good Sonorus on myself and go shouting it through the whole castle. Might as well, right? Merlin knows that if I wanted to keep something a secret, the universe would find out and have itself a good hearty laugh. 'Oh ho ho, look at that Harry Potter. He thinks he can have some rest now that he's somewhere where the whole bloody world doesn't drop to their knees when they see that scar, eh? Oh, we'll just have to change that! Here, let's make sure _everyone_ finds out! That will be fun, _won't it_?!'"

Sometime during his mad rant his eyes had closed. He paused for a moment to take a deep breath, noticed the darkness, and cautiously opened his eyes a bit. Hermione stood at the side of his bed, her arms crossed and foot tapping as she stared down at him. "Are you quite through yet?" she snapped.

"'Mione," Harry whimpered slightly. "Head hurts."

"I'm almost glad! Could you have perhaps thought of a more tactless way to go about this? Go ahead, give it some thought. I'd be interested to see what else wrong you could say!"

Harry merely blinked up at her, trying to understand why she was so angry, and why every person in the room behind her was looking at him in a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"Oh, for the love of-" Somewhere up and to Harry's right came Ginny's irritated voice followed by a soft whoosh of air and a resounding _thwack_ as she cracked her wand lengthwise against Harry's skull.

He shot upright as if electrocuted, he neck audibly cracking as he whipped around to look wide eyed at Ginny, "_Ow!_ What the hell was that?!" She merely crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Oh…" Harry murmured, placing his fingertips lightly against his forehead. "It doesn't hurt. I mean, where your wand hit is throbbing so hard I wouldn't be surprised if the aliens heard it and mistook it for Morse code, but the achy nauseous swollen thing is all gone! How did you…?"

"That's the problem with you lot," Ginny replied as she got off the bed and began whacking everyone around her who looked even a little bleary eyed. "You think, 'Oh, there's a potion that cures hangovers. I'll just buy that when I need one'. You don't ever consider that maybe there's an easier, and cheaper mind you, charm that will do just as well." She ended her mini lecture with a particularly violent whack of the wand against Ron's head.

"Or maybe people stopped using the bloody charm because it wasn't worth how much it hurt," he grumbled, rubbing his head lightly.

"Are we all feeling better, then?" Hermione asked, glaring around the room. "Nobody has a hangover putting them out of sorts? Good. Then we can discuss this nicely, like we should have from the very beginning."

"Alright then," Lily, sitting on James's bed, agreed. "Complete civility between all of us. So to start that off, how about you lot explain why Harry without any glamours on looks like James?"

Ginny sighed. "Harry's an idiot. He shouldn't have gone and exploded like that. But, however badly done that was, it was the truth. Right, Remus?" She glanced over at who she hoped would be their sole supporter at the moment.

It was, unfortunately, a vain hope. "I did tell you I'd prefer it if you lot came across as the crazy ones, didn't I? Anyway, it's your story to tell, I couldn't possibly do it right; I don't even know all of it."

"Okay," Elaina said, glancing between Harry and James slowly, trying to memorize each of their faces in turn before she looked at the other. Her eyes lingered on Harry's for a while, and then she looked at Lily as well. "Say I believe you."

"_What?_" James exploded. "You can't possibly-"

Elaina held up a hand to stop him. She still had a slightly dazed expression as she quickly glanced between James and Lily. "Say I'm just crazy enough to be the only one here who agrees that a parent child relationship is the only thing that explains the physical similarities, and that time travel is the only thing that explains you being back here. But _how_ did you get so far back in time? Did you wake up one day and just decide, 'Hmm, I feel like popping in on Daddy when he was my age. I think we'd be great pals'? I don't understand why you would want to come back in time at all."

"Well, it's not like we had a choice," Harry replied.

"Yeah," Ron piped in as well. "Hermione and I weren't even alive."

Remus snorted. "You failed to mention _that_ the first time around."

"If Remus believes it, I believe it," Peter said quietly. He was looking at the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, and refused to so much as glance at any of them.

"Well I don't!" Sirius yelled so loudly that he reminded Hermione to cast privacy charms on the room.

James nodded. "Me either. They could have done anything to Moony to get him to believe them! Imperius, or Confundus, or-"

"Look, I'll prove it to you the same way I proved it to Remus, okay?" Harry snapped. He wasn't sure that he ever consciously played out the scene in his mind where his mum and dad learned who he really was. But somewhere in his subconscious he must have hoped that, when the time came, they would accept him unquestioningly and with open arms, giving him a little bit of that absolute parental trust that could never remember having. It was foolish to believe it would have happened like that; he could see that now. But having to prove himself to the people who would become his parents still stung a little. But there was no doing anything about it, so he pushed that aside, took a deep breath, and began with Sirius.

"You. You ran away from home last year, or I imagine it was last year. In any case, you were sixteen. You went to live with James. But, if you haven't already, then you'll be moving out soon, since I'm sure that by now you've gotten that bit of gold from your uncle Alphard. You've both been burned off the family tree, by the way. I don't know if you ever knew before that your mother burned him off too for helping you."

"You ran away?" Lily asked incredulously.

Harry smiled grimly. It apparently wasn't well known information. At least he hadn't tried to prove that he was from the future by using something everybody already knew. Small victory. "Don't be too hard on him about it. I would run away too, if I were him. Absolute horror of a mum, and his house is a black, depressing thing. Lots of decapitated house elves."

"You know where I lived?" Sirius's voice resembled something between a squeak and a whine.

"Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Lots of permanent sticking charms, but a nice bit of defensive spells on it. Unplottable, some Anti-Aparations, the poor Muggles can't even see it. Lots of really gruesome decorations, though, like that umbrella holder. I can draw you up a floor plan, if you would like?"

Sirius, whose eyes were on the verge of losing their grasp to his sockets, merely shook his head no while he gaped.

Harry sighed. "Right then. On to Lily. You've a sister- Petunia. She's a nosy woman with too much neck and a horse mouth. You and she aren't getting on too well these days. She really does hate magic quite a bit. How old is she now, about nineteen? I imagine she's seeing a man named Vernon Dursley right now."

"They're engaged," Lily whispered softly.

"Of course they are. House hunting too, I'd bet. Somewhere nice, quiet and orderly? Surrey's where they'll end up. Can I please stop proving myself now?"

"Wait a minute!" James exclaimed. "There's any number of ways you could have learned all that about us. And there's no way I'm just going to believe that I've been spending all this time with some guy the same age as me who I supposedly fathered!"

"You can do whatever you like," Elaina told him stiffly. She sat down on the bed beside Harry and slung an arm around his shoulder. "I believe him. Arnie does too, even if he won't say it. Besides, there's no other way to explain why he looks like this naturally. Right, Lily?"

All eyes turned to the frowning redhead. "I… What I mean is… Yes, I think I believe him."

"Great!" Elaina exclaimed, bouncing happily on the mattress. "Now you _have_ to agree, James! It's almost like the law."

"What law, exactly?" He asked suspiciously.

Elaina shrugged. "I guess it's more like a code of conduct. You know. Always listen to the wife. Say, 'Yes, dear', and move on. Right?"

Lily and James sat staring at each other, their hands gripped lightly between them. "_Wife_?" Lily whispered, eyes not leaving James. "Now, wait a minute. I agreed to this when I thought it was just James's future kid we were talking about. But now you've gone and said that I'm in this too, and not only am I just in it, but mother of God on high am I _really_ in it! And who says I even want kids? Do you want kids? I'm not ready to consider squeezing something the size of a _watermelon_ through me! But then I guess I don't really have to consider anything, do I? If you're here and happy and in existence even though you really should be in existence during some other _time period_ of existence, then it just proves that I'm going to consider and I'm going to decide yes, aren't I? So I suppose I don't really have anything to think about at all. I wish we had a philosopher in here. I mean, does your being here and proving to me that I'm going to have a kid even though I've never thought about it prove that I have no control over my fate? Or could I decide here and now that I don't want to have any children at all? But if I did that and you didn't disappear, what would that prove? Would I end up impregnated somewhere down the line? Oh God, do you have siblings?"

"You're rambling," James whispered when she paused for breath. "And it was quite good rambling, Lilykins, don't get me wrong. Some of your best to date. But I would really appreciate it if you would just- hush. Please."

"Look, I'm sorry," Harry said, watching his parents together somewhat awkwardly. "I really didn't want you to find out like this. In fact, I would have preferred you not find out at all. If at some point down the line you looked down at your brand new baby boy and thought, 'Hmm, this kid Harry has a strong resemblance to that transfer student that one year, do you remember?' that would have been an acceptable way of you finding out. But like this- I'm sorry. I didn't want it."

"So Lily really is your mum?" Sirius asked, apparently having decided to at least indulge the time travelling scenario.

"Of course she's his mum," Arnau finally spoke. "Just look at their eyes. They're exactly the same. It could have been possible that Harry was somehow James's doppelganger, except those eyes. For him to resemble both Lily and James without either of them being the parent there would have to be some genetic commonality between the two. There isn't, so they must be the parents. And besides, Harry being a doppelganger is even more farfetched than the idea of time travelling."

"I've never actually heard anybody use _doppelganger_ in an actual sentence before," Remus mused quietly.

James turned to him. "Moony. You believe all this time travelling?"

"I didn't. Not at first. But then somehow Harry knew about the incident with Snape last year, and he knew about the Map, and he even knew how to _use_ the Map and… oh! Oh, now _there's_ an idea. Harry, where did you put that when you came back last night?"

Harry wrinkled his brow in confusion. "The Map? Er- it's probably with the Cloaks and the rest of my clothes from last night. I'm sorry I didn't give it back to you."

"I don't suppose you took any notice of your names when you were using it last?" Remus asked patiently, and briefly an image of Professor Lupin flitted across Harry's mind. And then he understood.

He dove across his bed to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor and rummaged through it a moment before victoriously coming back up with the Marauder's Map in hand. "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good! See, look, there! Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger." He passed it across to James and the others, grinning triumphantly.

"What is this?" Lily asked curiously. "It's brilliant."

James ignored her. He looked instead over towards Sirius and Peter. "What do you think?"

"Have we really not used the Map at all while they were around?" Sirius asked. "I think 'Harry Potter' is something we would have noticed."

"I don't think he means just about us not noticing, Padfoot," Peter replied quietly.

"Oh. Well. About the Map. I mean, we charmed it ourselves. You know there's nothing that could have duped it, Prongs. We even sent a Confundus at it all at once to make sure. I think- Well, there's really no way around it. If the Map says Harry Potter and whoever else, then that's who they are."

"I should get business cards that say that," Ginny muttered dryly. "Harry Potter and Whoever Else."

"I think it sums up my life quite nicely," Harry replied.

"Ours, too," Ron said, jerking his head in Hermione's direction.

"Okay," James told them, apparently having come to a consensus. "We believe you. So, um, how did you get here?"


	29. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Fate gently steepled his fingers, luminous eyes taking in the sight of the Game board before him. "**Well then**," was all he said.

His opponent, Time, apparently unable to know when to stop competing and in an attempt to beat the other deity in who could say less, merely responded, "_Yes._"

"**You only have one more clean-up move, did you see?**"

Time snorted. "_I have been playing this Game just as long as you have. I think I see by now when I only have one more move left_."

Fate's fingers, still in a pyramid, began to rhythmically tap against one other as he hummed lightly. "**So go ahead. Roll a three so you can put them back in their rightful time.**"

"_And what if I don't roll a three, O Wise One? What will that do to your Game plan?"_ There was, perhaps, a hint of mocking in his tone.

"**You won't. For my last move I weighted the dice**_**.**_"

* * *

After Harry had told his fellow seventh years the truth it had become… awkward. Not that that was anybody's fault, exactly. It just sort of happened. There weren't any preexisting social norms about how you act around your son who is the same age as you and from the future, after all. Lily had tried valiantly for a few moments to chat with Harry like normal after he had retold the story of their appearance in the past, but in the end, what could she do? She was a mother who couldn't embarrass her son around his friends, and he was a child who couldn't rebel against his parents. The last thing Harry had heard as he left the dormitory to find some solitude (after Hermione had replaced the glamours of course), was Lily murmuring, "Hang the parenting books, James. I'm not allowing you to read a single one. Strive to develop a friendship with your child my arse."

He had been alone now for almost an hour, or so he thought that was what it meant when the sun had moved just so across the horizon. He never had become a good judge of time though, not in all his wanderings. Harry considered, briefly, that it must be almost time for dinner to start and that he should maybe head in when a figure sat down gingerly beside him.

"Harry…" it began. It was James. Harry said nothing, not sure if he wanted his silence to be encouraging or not. "Harry, I was just wondering…. Am I- I mean, I just… Am I a good dad?"

Whatever Harry had been expecting, that wasn't it. He was floored, flabbergasted, flummoxed even. How was he to respond to that? There was a small sort of crushing sensation in his chest when he realized he _couldn't_ answer that. Not really. What did he know about the father James had been? One year olds are notorious for not retaining memories other than those pesky traumatizing ones of course.

James pulled his knees up towards his chest and brought his clenched hands to rest between them. "I knew it," he muttered dejectedly. "You know, they always told me I'd turn into my old man. I always promised I'd _never_ be the kind of father he was. Not that he's bad, you know. He's a damn decent man, and I know it. It's just, well, he's quite old now. We don't have much in common. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" He trailed off, as if he remember that, since he wasn't a father quite yet, he wasn't sure what he didn't mean to do, exactly.

The crushing sensation in Harry's chest grew a little more. He hated that he was just sitting there listening to James agonize about something he had never lived to become. Something he might not have become even had he lived. "James…" He began quietly, and then stopped. What could he say to comfort the man beside him? What could he do to prove that he loved him, even if he couldn't answer his question? "Do you know the theory behind a Patronus?" he asked suddenly, remember something that Remus had said in the Room of Requirement.

If James found the seeming non sequitur off putting, he didn't show it. "I know that it depends on what theory you're talking about. Some people have said that the form your Patronus chooses is a symbol of what you like the most about yourself. You know, like you're calling up the best in you to protect you from fear. Like my dad's is a bear, and he's always going on about how strong of a man he is, moral character, blah blah blah. So that would fit. But then there's a slew of people who say, 'No, look here, my Patronus changed into, I dunno, my _brother's_ Patronus form after my brother stopped me from being impaled by disease ridden spears' or something. And they say that their Patroni are now reflecting actual people who have protected them. Why?"

Harry couldn't look at James as he drew out his wand and cast the spell. The figure of Prongs, his father and protector, an embodiment of the man who gave his life to give Harry a bit more time, stood gracefully before them. It nodded its head in a sort of regal greeting to Harry before maneuvering so that it was directly before James. As James stared, open mouthed, it bent its forelegs until their eyes met. For many long, breathless seconds, they stood that way, transfixed by one another, before Prongs softly touched its forehead to James's own and disappeared.

"_Wow_," was all that James could manage.

"For what it's worth, James," Harry whispered, "I'm sure you were a great father."

"I'm not around anymore, am I?" James responded sadly, suddenly understanding. "I mean, when you're around I won't be. Right? What happened?"

"I don't think I can tell you that." He still couldn't bring himself to meet the other man's eyes.

James hummed slightly in acceptance. "It's okay. I don't need to know. Not really. But… well, whenever I go, I think it'll be okay. I think I'll be glad that I got to know you when you were grown up. Sort of. And, um-" he blushed slightly. Harry knew because he had finally been able to look at him. "-I think I'll be proud of you. Jumping into the middle of Death Eater headquarters and saving lives and everything… you know."

Harry couldn't respond. He couldn't do anything but smile and close his eyes as he finally heard those words.

* * *

James and Harry had come to a sort of quiet understanding, and so they didn't talk much during dinner. They sat side by side, content in knowing about the relationships they would or would not have in the future, but left it unacknowledged throughout the meal. Sirius had not come to the same, mature decision.

"Prongslet works, of course, but only if you're willing to lose your identity to Prongs. You know, be forever in your father's shadow and all that. Not a good environment to grow up in, you take my word for it. No, no. What you need is something all your own. Something that says, 'Marauder spawned but not defined!' Or, well, if it could _scream_ it rather than say it, that would be ideal. You don't suppose you'd like a onesie with that written on it, do you? When the time comes? I know calligraphy, you know. What's your animagus? That's how we got ours, or, well, except for Moony, but you know that, right? So go on. We can't name you without knowing."

Harry shook his head and smiled lightly. It was amazing how easily Sirius bounced right back to being himself. "I'm not an animagus."

Sirius's fork clattered to the floor. Remus chuckled. "Now you've done it. You've gone and given him cause to doubt. And he had been so excited about being a godfather and everything."

"You're a Marauder's son and you're not an _animagus_?! I don't believe it!" Sirius looked positively horrified.

"Of course he's not an animagus," Lily interjected. "He hasn't been seventeen long enough to have learned how to become an animagus and then get licensed… have you?" She glanced at Harry and then around at the four Marauders, who were now all, save Remus, staring intently at their food. Remus was staring intently at the show. Lily narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"Er- well…" Peter began. Sirius stabbed his meatloaf (with a spoon, having not yet recovered his fork) violently, and the resulting clang of utensil on plate brought Peter up short.

There was silence for all of five seconds before James finally groaned. "Oh, all right! You've broken me, woman! I'll confess. Peter, Sirius and I are unregistered animagi. Are you happy now?"

Before she could answer, Sirius broke in with an almost canine whine. "_I'm_ not! I am not happy at all! You're not supposed to tell her that! Do you see this pout?" He pointed a finger at his lips, which he then proceeded to stick out comically far. "This is the pout of an unhappy me!"

"He doesn't care if you're happy," Remus informed him. "It's not your tongue he wants down his throat."

Lily turned as red as her hair and immediately became tenfold times more interested in her meal.

Arnau grinned widely and leaned across the table to Elaina. He whispered, "Point to Remus for embarrassing Lily so much she forgot about the illegal animagi."

Remus took a bow.

* * *

"You were awfully quiet at dinner, Harry," Hermione commented as they made their way back to the common room. They had all four left a bit earlier than their friends of the '70s so that they might have some "time traveler alone time", as Ron had called it. To discuss the day.

Harry nodded. "I- James came to talk to me." None of them commented as they allowed him to gather his thoughts. "He knows he's going to die."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, shocked. "How could you?! That's not something anybody should know!"

"We all know that we're going to die, 'Mione, and we all know it," Ron mumbled, glancing askance at Harry. He sensed something a bit off about his friend and was trying to redirect some of Hermione's ire from Harry to him.

"That's not what I mean, Ron, and you-"

"He asked me if he was a good father," Harry interrupted. He stopped walking to quietly contemplate a portrait of a witch and her two daughters in a garden. "I didn't know what to say, so I showed him my Patronus and let him figure out that he died for me. He said he was proud of me."

They were all silent, watching the portrait now with him. However irritated Hermione may have been at the idea of James knowing that particular piece of the future, she certainly couldn't begrudge Harry having finally heard those words from his father himself, after all those years of other people assuring him that James would be proud.

The atmosphere was taking on a slightly melancholy tint when Ginny, grinning wryly, said, "Gee, Harry. First you show off your Patronus to Remus, then James. Why not buy it a red light so, the next time you want to let somebody ogle it, at least you'll get paid."

"_Ginevra_!" Ron sputtered, aghast. Harry merely chuckled and pulled her closer to his side.

"You don't think we should, er, I mean-" Hermione began, not paying attention to the siblings.

Ron rolled his eyes, glad of the diversion from what his baby sister had said. "Go ahead and spit it out. We promise not to bite you."

"Not unless she asks for it, eh, Ron?" Ginny giggled, by now far too delighted by Ron's reactions to care about appropriate time and place for Brother Baiting.

Ron's eyes went wide and he glanced between Harry and Ginny, both of whom were trying to look as innocent as humanly possible. "You- you're lucky I ever let the two of you alone together!"

"_As I was saying_," Hermione interjected pointedly, looking slightly pink. "Harry. You don't think we should wipe their memories, do you? We hadn't ever planned on letting them know who we are, after all."

All color drained from Harry's face at the suggestion. No, no she couldn't! How dare she even suggest that? When, not more than two hours ago, James Potter, his soon to be _father_, had told him that he was glad that, when he died, he would be able to look back and remember Harry as he would be. And Hermione was going to take that away? No. It wasn't fair, and he wouldn't allow it. He wanted his parents to remember who he was. Wanted them to know that he was okay, and that they should be proud of him. He opened his mouth to say Merlin only knew what (although even Merlin, long dead though he was, could have guessed that whatever he may have said, it wouldn't be kind), when Ron spoke instead.

"No way, 'Mione! Harry's spent all this time trying to help Peter grow a backbone, and you want to suggest Obliviating them all? How would that help your 'change the future' plan?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes. Yes, you're right. I just thought- I don't know. We're not trying to conserve our future lives, I guess, so I really shouldn't care that James knows potentially future altering information."

Ron slung his arm around her shoulder. "If it helps you sleep at night, it probably doesn't matter a bit what any of us say at this point, after the whole Save Fee thing. We've broken up the future we know beyond repair."

"Comforting."

"Harry!" a voice called behind them. "Ginny! Hermione, Ron!" It was Lily, coming up from dinner with the others. "I'm setting up an Exploding Snap Tournament! Winner gets one item from each of the losers at Honeydukes next Hogsmeade weekend; are you in?"

Harry grinned and opened his mouth to reply, when suddenly the edge of his vision swam with blue. It took over, crawling across his line of vision until his parents and their friends disappeared before his wide eyes. He saw nothing but blue. He felt nothing beside him. Not Ginny, nor Ron or Hermione, nor even the floor he previously stood on. He heard nothing but the voice, echoing within his mind without bothering to pass through his ears first. "**I apologize for what I'm sure was rotten timing. But, well, you of all people know how these things go. And I do think that Time rather enjoys delivering bad timing. He can be so bitter, it's best to give him a bit of fun, yes?**"

And then there was nothing but white.


	30. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Harry wasn't sure if the whiteness encompassing him dissipated or condensed, or if it had ever actually been there at all. All he was aware of was a figure suddenly standing before him. At least, he thought it was a figure. And he thought it was before him. But he felt it behind him, and watched as when he blinked it lost its substance as a figure. It had eyes, at least. Of that he was sure. Two bright, constant, glowing eyes.

"**Welcome**_**,**_"it said.

"Who the hell are you?" That was Ron's voice, but Harry hadn't known Ron was there. He had been alone in the white thus far. Squinting, Harry looked around him, trying to spot his friend, but to no avail. He must be behind the presence of the figure.

"And where the hell are we?" Ginny was here, wherever here was, too, then.

"**I am what you would call Fate, Ronald. Ginevra, you are nowhere. And you are everywhere. Everything, everywhere, and every time that ever was or will be is first here. This is- the maternity ward of reality, so to speak.**"

"I don't understand," said Hermione's voice, confirming that they were all together, even if they were all alone.

"**Everything must come from somewhere, Hermione. Every idea must be created before it can be thought; sounds must exist before words can be dreamed; matter has to come from somewhere first. This is that somewhere. Like a breeding ground of dreams. I and the other entities of consciousness were the first, that we know of, to be born from here. And we dreamed up such ideas! Life, death, rebirth, time, space, **_**being**_**. And then what was born here began to dream, the dust became a universe, the amoeba created complex life, such beauty made possible constantly thanks to this nowhere. And then you humans, you dreamed of Fate. And I, who had been nothing but a consciousness before, emerged from here as this: An active role in all your lives. You, whom I helped to create, have created me. That is the power of this place.**"

"It's making my head ache," Harry muttered sullenly. "Look, I, er, well, pleased to meet you and all that, you know, thanks for giving me life, but I think I might have gotten the short end of the stick here, and I can't say I'm too thrilled about you."

Fate seemed to contemplate him for a moment. "**Your life thus far has been more- eventful than most, it seems. But that is not my fault. I do not choose the pieces of my Game particularly. They are given to me from what has occurred previously. It is really chance that gave you the- what did you call it? The short end of the stick?**"

"…I'm sorry. Did you say _game_?"

"**The Game, yes. It is the manner in which Time and I dictate events in your world. Do not be angry with me, Harry. It is your kind, with your beliefs and your constant imagination, that has dictated this job even to me. There is a balance at work here that none may fight.**"

Hermione's voice came out of the emptiness, laced with bitterness "It's all I ever wanted, to be a pawn. Really. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Sort of complete, really."

"**Oh, I assure you, you are not a pawn. Your piece on the original Game board was in the very back**."

"I have a _piece?_ Why you manipulative- you know, I'm sorry I ever read that book about you. If belief is what keeps you sustained, I certainly don't want to feed into it. I refuse to be a- a _chess piece_."

"Not again at least."

"Ron!"

"Sorry," he chuckled. "Couldn't help myself."

"**If it helps,**" Fate began, sounding a little like he really was trying to be helpful, "**We do not manipulate you- merely the situations you find yourselves in. Human beings are very attached to their idea of free will. Even the belief in Fate does not change that they choose rather adamantly to remain in control of their actions**."

"I- well- yes, okay, that does make me feel better," Hermione admitted. "But I won't thank you in the slightest for the incident with that troll."

"It doesn't make me feel a bit better!" Harry exclaimed. "I don't care how I _react_ in a situation! I didn't want these bloody situations to begin with! You control 'the situation', that means _you_ killed my parents, _you_ left me with the Dursleys, allowed me to be attacked again and again, put me sometime when I was happy then _yanked_ it away, and for what? I couldn't care less that when I decided to _fight for my life_ it was really me doing it. Why did I have to do it in the first place? Because of _you!_"

"**That is- only somewhat fair. I do have an opponent, you know. I do not play this Game by myself. Time is just as much to blame for situations occurring as I. And besides that, many of the events that happened to you were the result of the ideas of one of your fellow humans. And we may be able to manipulate the ideas- leaving a book about myself lying underneath an Invisibility Cloak for Hermione to find, for example- but there are certain times when events are out of our control. When you rescued Fiona was one such time. Although the Game was responsible for blowing a sale ad past the girl so that she might go to the shop where the Death Eaters were lurking.**"

"You _wanted_ her to be captured?" Harry wasn't certain, but he thought he heard at least two of his friends yelling along with him.

"**The Horcruxes are part of Time's Game plan.**"

"So- wait a moment," Hermione said. "The Horcruxes have been created- but they weren't _fated_ to be created? What's fated and what's not? Why do you and Time play against each other at all? Aren't you in control of what happens to everybody? I mean, that would mean that you always win. There's no game in that."

Harry swore that Fate smiled. He didn't see a smile, hell, he didn't even see a mouth, but he _felt_ the smile all the same. "**The problem with destiny is that each person doesn't have only one. The timing in which events occur in their life can guide them down any number of paths, all of which lead to different yet viable fates. You, for instance, Hermione, had many potential destinies that ended with a lonely suicide. **

"**I go into each round knowing all of the different twists of fate that may occur, and I choose a select few that I like. It is then my role in the Game to try and manipulate the moves that Time makes so that they prove to be a positive influence on my Game plan, and so that any one of the fates I have chosen turn out to be the end result. His role, of course, is to try and use time to take me so far off track that I have no hope of ever getting back to the paths I have chosen. It often happens. It **_**did**_** happen, when you were attacked in Russia. It was lucky that I was able to use my turn to send you back and start from scratch. That has never happened in a Game round before. I must admit I was quite proud of that move.**"

"But-" if Harry could see her, he swore Hermione would be biting her lip. "You make it sound like you're winning right now. But there are so many awful things going on in the world. Terrorism, disease, civil war- is it a close game? Could Time win?"

"**Oh, now you're straying into "good" versus "evil". Such terribly human concepts. I'm afraid they're lesser entities. They exist in the physical realms, interacting immediately with you humans. They are not quite like us, who were here at least consciously before all else. Make no mistake, Hermione, just because I am on your side in this Round does not mean that I am always attempting to influence the side that you would deem "right". Why, what you call the Dark Ages was my Game plan. That entire bothersome Renaissance was all Time throwing a wrench in my plan. I was aiming for a medieval world war.**"

There was silence for who knew how long. In the everywhere they were in, it could have been eons. Finally, Ginny said slowly, "So- us going back in time. That was- you- and not Time?"

Fate chuckled, "**It does seem rather counterintuitive, does it not? Yes, it was me. But I mandated that Time send you back.**"

"So why send us back to my parents?" Harry asked, "Why not send us back to the beginning of the war?"

"**Why not?**" Fate asked in return, a hint of a shrug evident in his voice, "**I won the Round that your parents were a part of. I was losing your Round. Why go back to a losing strategy when you have a winning one as an option?**"

"It really is all just a game to you," Harry murmured in wonder.

"**Your lives are fleeting. It would be foolish to allow it to be anything else.**"

Ginny cleared her throat, "Right. Well. This is uncomfortable. What happens now?"

"**Now you go back to the correct year, and a new Round begins. Hopefully this time none of you will die. That is not a part of my chosen fates.**"

"What are?" Ron asked curiously.

Fate's presence shook its head, "**That would be divulging my strategy, Ronald. You may decide for yourself in the end if you believe I won.**"

"So we'll remember this?" Hermione asked. "Time travelling, the maternity ward of reality, you and Time?"

"**Everything that has happened after the original time lines you lived your lives in changed will be remembered, yes. So everything from the moment you woke up in the past you will remember when Time returns you to your proper place. What happened previously, though, I cannot guarantee coherent memories of."**

"So… what changed?" Ginny asked. "_Did _we change anything?"

Fate's presence seemed to waver in Harry's vision, although his eyes stayed as bright as ever. "**I fear that you can remain here not much longer. Time grows impatient. Yes, some things have changed. I will leave you here for a moment to adjust to your new memories. And then a new Round and new events**."

"Wait-" Harry began, but it was too late. Fate's figure disappeared. Or the whiteness around it congealed. Or everything, including the whiteness, dissolved. Perception meant nothing in this place.

And then, suddenly, it meant everything. Harry was no longer in emptiness. He was, in fact, seated on the grass in the backyard of Number 4. He twirled a dandelion between his small, child's fingers. He was waiting. And he had been very good about waiting so far, but it was starting to be _boring_. It was almost noon, and still he hadn't shown up. And it was Harry's birthday, too! He should have been here by now!

"Hey there, Prongslet!" a voice called.

Harry's head shot up. He dropped the dandelion in excitement as he ran to greet the man who had just entered the backyard with him. "Uncle Padfoot! I thought you forgot!"

Sirius scooped him up in a hug and spun him around a few times for good measure. "Forget your fifth birthday? What kind of heartless man do you take me for? I've half a mind not to give you your present, if you think I'm that cruel!"

Harry laughed. "No, no! I didn't mean it! What did you get me?"

Chuckling, Sirius sat down and patted the ground beside him, and invitation that Harry immediately accepted. Sirius glanced slyly from side to side, checking to make sure they were alone, and pulled out his wand. Harry nearly squealed with excitement. It wasn't often his Uncle Padfoot did magic. Aunt Petunia hated it. She never allowed it when Uncle Padfoot came to visit, so they had to be sneaky about it.

"Go ahead, Harry," Sirius whispered. "Say the magic words and your present will appear."

"What are the magic words, Uncle Padfoot?" Harry whispered back.

"Repeat after me, okay? Abracadabra and alakazeem, give me my gift right now or I'll scream."

As Harry dutifully repeated the words, albeit a bit jumbled, Sirius subtly flicked his wand, and a large gift appeared in Harry's lap. The five year old wasted no time shredding the paper to bits, revealing a book. A _magic_ book. Harry could tell. The pictures were moving. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he reverently stroked the front cover. "But- Uncle Padfoot, Aunt Petunia won't let me keep it in the house! It's magic! And if I keep it outside the worms will steal it."

Even though he had been deathly serious and had said nothing funny whatsoever, thank you very much, his uncle threw his head back and barked with laughter. "I don't think you need to worry about the worms, Prongslet. The book's charmed, if any of the Dursleys look at it, they'll just see a normal book of fairy stories. So go ahead, open it up and look through it."

Harry did so, flipping through the pages slowly until it dawned on him that the illustrations looked familiar. He squinted and leaned over until his eyes were only a few inches from the pages. "Those are my parents!" he exclaimed, pointing excitedly to the redheaded princess and bespectacled knight.

Sirius smiled sadly, "Yeah, yeah they are. The pictures are all based off sketches Wormtail did at their wedding. They can't be here to tell you bedtime stories, but at least this way they'll be a part of them."

Harry nearly knocked him over with the force of his hug. "Thank you, Uncle Padfoot. It's the bestest birthday present ever! Can you read me a story tonight?"

Sighing, Sirius repositioned Harry so that he was sitting on his lap, not draped across his shoulders. "You know your aunt will kick me out long before your bedtime. But I can read you one now, if you like."

Harry pouted. "No! I want you to stay longer. Or I want to go with you. Why do I have to stay here?"

"Because your uncle is a very stupid man, Harry," Sirius replied sadly. "I was supposed to be the one who would take care of you, you know. Godfather and whatnot. But- I was very, very angry when I found out your parents died. There was somebody who was supposed to protect them, you met Wormtail, right? But the bad man who killed your parents hurt him, too, and he couldn't protect your parents anymore. And I was so angry. I went to Wormtail's house and I started spelling everything. I trashed the place, but it was in a Muggle neighborhood."

"You can't do magic by the Muggles, Uncle Padfoot!" Harry cried in horror.

"I know. And I got in trouble for it. So much trouble that I couldn't take care of you, so they gave you to the Dursleys instead. But Fee- you know Fee; you've met her a couple of times-" Harry nodded, "She's a lawyer. She got me out of trouble and made so much noise that they gave me permission to come visit you."

"I'm glad you do, Uncle Padfoot. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don't like me too much."

Sirius hugged Harry tightly, "I know."

* * *

Harry was in dress robes. He had never worn robes before, and if they were all like the itchy ones he had on now, he wasn't excited about school.

"Stop fidgeting, Prongslet," Sirius admonished, smoothing the wrinkles out of Harry's robes. When he stood, he noticed with a crestfallen expression that, in kneeling to rid his godson of wrinkles, he had destroyed his own previously pressed dress robes. Harry laughed.

"It's not nice to mock a doomed man, Prongslet," he muttered sourly.

"Why are you doomed?" Harry asked curiously.

Leaning down, Sirius whispered in Harry's ear, "Fee snores."

"I heard that," the snorer was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and a slight smile on her lips. "And I do not."

"Aunt Fee!" Harry called happily, running to hug her. "This is the boys' room, though! You shouldn't be here!"

Fee chuckled. "Well. I heard that uncle of yours saying untrue things, I simply had to defend myself, didn't I?" Harry smiled, showing off the gap in his grin where a front tooth used to be. "But actually, we have a gift for you, and I wanted to make sure I was here when Sirius told you."

Harry's grin was replaced by confusion. "I thought the bride got the presents, not the ring bearer."

Sirius crossed the room to join them, wrapping an arm around Fee's waist. "What can we say, we like to give. When do you get out of school, Harry?"

"In two months. Why?"

"Well then, Harry. In two months, you'll be coming to live with us for the summer."

* * *

_Prongslet,_

_GRYFFINDOR! I knew you'd make it. Don't tell the wife (she was a Ravenclaw), but we Gryffindors are by far superior. Be sure to cause hell, now. I expect plenty of broken rules and enough stories to last us through the entire summer, do you hear?_

_As to this friend you've made. A Weasley, is it? That would be Molly and Arthur's youngest boy. Are you absolutely certain he's the same friend from those dreams of yours? I only mean that you've never met anyone you've dreamt about before, I'd be curious to know what comes out of it._

_And don't think I've forgotten that you're probably infuriated with me. I'm sorry I couldn't see you off at the platform. Really, you shouldn't have had to go it alone your first time. Peter's disappeared, though. I got called in on the case, and I know it can't completely excuse me for missing your first train ride, but I hope it softens you up to me a little. I'll sneak in to see you sometime, make sure you have a story to tell._

_Love and luck,_

_Padfoot_

* * *

_Prongslet,_

_By story I did __**not**__ mean fighting a troll._

_Padfoot_

* * *

"Merlin's _pants_, Harry! Can't you hear the door!"

"I thought you were getting it!" Harry called back, finishing a paragraph of one of his summer essays.

"I don't have any clothes on! I was under the impression that you were at the age where seeing your godfather's dangling bits would be detrimental to your mental stability."

Grimacing, Harry dragged himself up off the ground and went to answer the banging at Sirius's door, "The age I'm _at_ doesn't ever want to hear the words 'dangling bits' coming from your mouth again! Oh! Professor Lupin!"

The graying man at the door blinked. Harry blinked. He had never met the man before, but he had still recognized him. He had had a dream once where this exact same man was talking to him about boggarts and dementors, though Harry had no idea what the two had to do with each other. Most of his dreams were like that. He dreamed about people he had never met before, and what happened in the dreams meant nothing. Not at the time, at least. He had once had a dream about Ron vomiting slugs (he had the dream before he ever met Ron) and then last year it actually happened. But Harry was used to it now. It was just uncomfortable for the people he shouldn't recognize but did.

Like Lupin. He was still standing in the door way, hand resting on the frame, gaping at Harry. "Oh my God," he whispered. "Harry? I thought they sent you to live with Lily's sister."

Harry shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Er. Yeah, technically that's where I still live. But I stay at Hogwarts over the holidays, and I come here for the summer, so not really anymore I guess since I never go back there. Do you- do you want to come in?"

Lupin shook himself out of his shock. "Yes. Yes, thank you." He passed into the hallway and hung his coat up then suddenly turned to look back at Harry. "You called me Professor Lupin."

"Should I not have?"

"Well, it's right I suppose, but I've never met you before. And I only just accepted the professor position last week. How did you-"

"Who is it, Prongslet?" Sirius's voice interrupted, followed by footsteps on the stairs.

"Don't you dare take another step unless you've got six layers of clothing on!" Harry warned. Sirius laughed and continued on down the stairs. "And it's Professor Lupin."

The footsteps stopped. One, two, three seconds passed, and suddenly Sirius was running through the house full tilt, sliding to the halt in the hallway. "You son of a bitch," he whispered, locking eyes with his childhood friend. "I don't know whether to hug you or kill you."

Remus tilted his chin up, bearing his throat to the other man. "I won't stop you."

"Uncle Padfoot?" Harry asked, suddenly unsure about the way his godfather was looking at their guest.

Sirius sighed. "Well. That settles that then. Can't kill you in front of the kid." He crossed the room and hugged Lupin tightly. "But don't think this means I forgive you for disappearing."

"I didn't mean to be gone so long. But Lily and James, and then you were thrown into prison, and Arnau's Death Eater boyfriend _slaughtering _him like that, that horrific- I just, I couldn't go to anymore funerals. So I ran. And then I ran into a werewolf pack in South America, and once I was sucked in I couldn't escape."

"So why are you here now?" Sirius asked, leading Lupin to a chair.

"In a moment, Padfood," Lupin replied turning to look at Harry, who had followed silently behind. "You got him back."

"Only for the summers."

"That's what I told him," Harry agreed, sitting back down by his homework.

"Why did you call me Professor Lupin, Harry?"

Harry sighed. "Because when you're in my dreams that's what I call you."

"Your dreams?" Great. Lupin wasn't going to believe him. Not too many people did, really.

"Harry has most unusual dreams," Sirius supplied.

"Prophetic?"

Sirius and Harry glanced at each other. That was something they had wondered about from time to time, but Sirius had always seemed sure that they were something different, though he never told Harry what he suspected them to be. "Not as such, no. Many times the dreams he has are just moments of everyday life. Sometimes they are a bit more- daunting, I suppose."

"Voldemort and the unicorn," Harry supplied.

"Yes, that one. Harry had a dream when he was nine about it, and then in his first year when he was in the Forbidden Forrest he saw it for real."

Lupin gasped. "He was in the _forest_?"

"He was in the school," Harry told him. "But just his spirit. He doesn't have a body, not for now. But I had a feeling, after he didn't get the Stone, that he'd have one eventually, and I trust my feelings."

Lupin and Sirius exchanged glances. "That is- most impressive."

Harry nodded, glad at least that this old friend of his father and godfather didn't think he was insane. "I get déjà vu at really weird times, too. Like when I killed the basilisk."

"You _what_? _Sirius_, why are you letting him run around with dark lords and giant _snakes_?"

Sirius crossed his arms. "Don't look at me. He gets extra chores every time I hear about him doing anything remotely heroic. Doesn't seem to stop him."

Harry grinned, and Remus returned it. "You look happy, though, Harry. I'm glad. And glad as I am to see you, both of you, there's something I need to show you." He pulled a slim, leather bound sketchbook from inside his robes. "I received this not long ago. It was sent from Wormtail's vault."

He handed it over to Sirius, whose head had snapped to attention when Remus mentioned Peter. He had disappeared three years ago, and although Sirius was still technically the Auror assigned to the case, it was accepted as cold. "There's a letter," he murmured after opening the book. "_'Moony. You're the best man I know at keeping secrets, so here's the one I've been working on since the first war. I've been gone for three years if you've got this. Don't try looking for me; I'm most likely dead. You've got to finish this, though. Wormtail._' That's it? What secret?"

"Look at the pictures," Lupin instructed.

Curious, Harry peered over his godfather's shoulder as he slowly flipped through the book. The first few were landscapes with a few distinguishing features, like a monument to an old Quidditch World Cup game or a road sign. But then there was a picture of a cave and Harry gasped.

"Harry?" Sirius asked. "What is it?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't really know. It was just a feeling really. "Something dangerous. I don't know. But it's there."

"What's there?" Lupin asked.

Harry didn't respond. He flipped the page instead, and found himself staring at a rough sketch of a locket. He gulped. "That. That's there."

"It's a map," Sirius realized, flipping through the next set of pages. "All we have to do is find out what each of these places are, and they'll lead us straight to- whatever this is. Harry, are you sure you don't remember?"

"No. But there are seven pieces."

"Why seven?"

Harry shrugged, "That's just a number that feels right."

Sirius stopped suddenly at the next picture. It was, presumably, the second object Wormtail had discovered. "Sweet Merlin. That's-"

Remus nodded. "That's also the reason I came here. That's definitely Fee's pendant, and she did mention that she sort of knew what they had wanted to use it for, but I lost touch with Fee before I lost touch with you. I don't know where she is, but I think with her help we'd be able to figure out what these are, why Peter had to be so secretive about it, and I think we can finish what he started."

Sirius and Harry couldn't resist. They began to laugh. Remus frowned. "What part of that was funny?"

Still laughing, Sirius glanced at his godson. "I dunno, Harry. Do you think we'll be able to pin Fee down?"

"It could be difficult. I mean really, when was the last time you saw her?"

"What do you two know that I don't?"

Sirius shook his head. "Oh, nothing. Nothing. Hey look, the wife's home!"

* * *

"Dreams, Sirius?"

Harry paused outside his godfather's study. He knew it. Remus did think he was a freak. He just hadn't wanted to say so when Harry could hear. Well, he was hearing now, so let Lupin say whatever the hell he wanted and think it had been private.

He heard his godfather sigh. "I know."

"Harry said you didn't think they were prophetic."

"No, I don't, and neither do you. I think they're memories, from whatever life he had back then. I talked to Molly and Arthur. Their two youngest have it, too, so it's not just a coincidence."

"Does Harry remember?"

"No. I don't think so at least. And I've thought about that a lot. If he can remember what time used to be like, why can't he remember when it changed?"

"Well, he is only thirteen now."

"You think his age has something to do with it?"

Remus hummed. "I think… well frankly, yes, I do. There has to be some sort of law of time. They were displaced when they were seventeen. They can't have come back as infants, right? When they left they were still seventeen."

"So- Harry will remember when the timelines meet up, you think?"

"I think I want more than anything for him to be able to remember. So I hope I'm right."

Harry shook his head. He had no idea what they were talking about.

* * *

FORTUITOUS FLOOD AT AZKABAN

Two days ago, heave rain waters unearthed several of the deceased prisoners buried in the graveyard outside of Azkaban. While attempting to return the bodies to their proper plots, one of the Azkaban's Aurors noticed that body assumed to be that of Bartimous Crouch Jr. was in actuality a woman. Thorough charming by the Ministry of Magic's forensic team revealed the body to be that of Death Eater's mother, and no further searches of the graveyard revealed the assumed dead Crouch Jr.

"We will be treating this as an escape," Head of Aurors Rufus Scrimgeour informed the Prophet. "Teams of Dementors and Aurors will be routinely searching high risk areas, Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, etc, for any sign of the convict."

* * *

"So. Dragons."

"Dragons," Harry replied glumly.

"And a Hungarian Horntail at that," Ron said, tossing a rock into the lake. "You'll want to watch out for that. They're mean, Charlie says."

"He might not get the Horntail," Hermione pointed out, though she sounded nothing if not unconvinced.

Ron snorted, "Oh, he'll get the Horntail alright. I can feel it. How are you going to beat it?"

And then Harry knew. He remembered a dream he had not even a year ago- pretty recently as far as relevancy for his dreams went. "Fly." He said. Only his hadn't been the only voice. Hermione had said it too. They looked at each other, wide eyed. "How did you…?" Harry began.

Hermione turned a little red. "I- look, I don't go in for Divination, you know that, right? So there must be some other explanation for this, but all my life I've, well-"

"You dreamed," Harry supplied, shocked.

"I dreamed," Hermione repeated.

"Me too," Ron added. "But not often. I mostly just get feelings. Like with the Horntail."

Hermione gulped. "So- we've all- dreamt about our lives?"

"But not our lives," Harry said. "Because not everything we've dreamed has happened. Or is that me?"

"No, it's me too," Hermione replied. "How did we not know this?"

Ron shrugged. "I knew. I mean, I knew that you lot were the same way. I thought you did too."

"You knew but didn't tell us?"

"I just said, I thought we all kind of _felt_ that the others were the same way. But I guess it was just me. And Ginny. Ginny's the same way. So maybe that's why I didn't think it was weird, me finding you lot, because Ginny and I have been swapping dreams since we were kids."

They were silent for a moment. Then Hermione asked, "It's kind of like remembering a previous life, isn't it? I always thought so, anyway."

* * *

"You asked to see me, Professor Dumbledore?"

"Harry! Come in, sit down. Are you well?"

Harry shrugged. "As well as I could be, considering I was just used by a crazy, inmate escapee Death Eater to resurrect the most evil man known to history."

Dumbledore sighed. "It is that man I wish to discuss with you today, Harry. Sirius tells me you have seen the drawings that Remus received from Peter."

Harry nodded. "They're maps."

"Indeed they are, my dear boy. But maps to what, do you know?"

Harry bit his lip. "I know… I know that they're incomplete. There's not enough of them. But not enough to find what, I don't know. So I guess the answer's really no, sir. I don't know."

"You are quite correct, it is not all of them. But young Peter mapped the way to four different locations for us. Your godfather, Fiona, and Remus have been working on retrieving them since. Did you know?"

Harry shook his head. "But they've been careful, right sir? I don't know what they are, but if they're going to get killed like Wormtail-"

Dumbledore held up a hand to halt him. "What they're doing, dangerous or not, must be done. Come, Harry. Let me tell you about the Horcruxes."

* * *

"You never believed me! I told you! I _told_ you Malfoy was up to something! I've been telling you for _years_ that you shouldn't trust Snape! I told you, and you ignored me, like I was some sort of _child_!"

"Well you are the one throwing a temper tantrum!" Sirius snapped.

"Shut up! Dumbledore's dead, the Horcrux is a fake, _Snape_ is out running hand in hand with bloody Voldemort, this isn't the time for your sarcasm!"

Sirius sank into a chair, rubbing his eyes. "I know. I know, Harry. I miss that crazy old man already too, alright? You think I'm not upset too? That what Peter died for, what Remus and Fee and I have been working towards for three _years_ now, was for nothing? I'm furious, Harry. But breaking every vase in my house out of rage isn't going to do anything! So shut up and shape up, young man, because I will not tolerate it. Not today."

Harry deflated and sat before his godfather on the ground, leaning his side against the older man's legs. Sirius sighed sadly and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm so sorry you've been dragged into this."

"I'm going with you."

Sirius's hand retracted quickly. "What?"

Harry looked up at him, determination gleaming in his eyes. "When you, and Aunt Fee, and Professor Lupin head out next time, to look for the Horcruxes, I'm going with you. I promised Dumbledore I'd finish this. And I'm going to do it."

"Absolutely not. It's dangerous. And you're still in school."

"I'm of age this summer. I can decide not to go back to school. And I have. Ron and Hermione, too. Maybe Ginny, I'm not sure what she finally decided. But we're not going back there. We're going with you. Besides, we all "remember" things about the Horcruxes that you've never dreamed of knowing, and we might remember more. We're coming with you."

* * *

Harry opened his eyes, expecting to see white again. Expecting to still be in that "maternity ward" with Fate and his friends' voices. But instead he saw trees. He heard a bird, somewhere. Felt the presence of his friends at his side. He could hear his aunt and uncle in a nearby clearing arguing with Professor Lupin about how to destroy the old locket of Aunt Fee's.

"Harry?" Ginny asked groggily, sitting up. "Where are we?"

Harry grinned at her. "Where we always have been. In the world we created."

Fin.

* * *

It's been a long time coming, I know, and you can't even begin to know how much I appreciate all you guys who stuck by it all the way. So go ahead. Tell me what you think, ask me about whatever loose ends you want to question (I made up a whole new timeline in my head that I'm never going to get the chance to explore in this story- maybe a oneshot?- so I'm sure there are questions from you lot), all that jazz. It's been a blast, guys. Hope you enjoyed it half as much as I have.


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